LETTERS  AND  MISCEL- 
LANIES OF  ROBERT 
LOUIS  STEVENSON 


M 


EMOIR  OF  FLEEM- 
1NG  JENKIN   ft   SE 


OF  ENGINEERS    ft   ft   ft 


*  PUBLISHED  IN 
NEW  YORK  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S 

SONS    t    *     inn  * 


LETTERS  AND  MISCEL- 
LANIES OF  ROBERT 
LOUIS  STEVENSON 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEM- 
ING  JENKIN   £   k 
RECORDS  OF  A  FAMILY 
OF  ENGINEERS    *   k   ft 


$  PUBLISHED  IN 
NEW  YORK  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S 
SONS     *      %      1911    % 


MEMOIR   OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

THE  JENKINS  OF  STOWTING — FLEEMING'S  GRANDFATHER — MRS.  BUCK- 
NER'S  FORTUNE — FLEEMING'S  FATHER;  GOES  TO  SEA;  AT  ST. 
HELENA  ;  MEETS  KING  TOM  ;  SERVICE  IN  THE  WEST  INDIES  ; 
END  OF  HIS  CAREER — THE  CAMPBELL-JACKSONS  —  FLEEMING'S 
MOTHER — FLEEMING'S  UNCLE  JOHN I 


CHAPTER  II.     1833-1851 

BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD — EDINBURGH  —  FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MAIN — 
PARIS — THE  REVOLUTION  OF  1848 — THE  INSURRECTION — FLIGHT 
TO  ITALY — SYMPATHY  WITH  ITALY — THE  INSURRECTION  IN  GENOA 
— A  STUDENT  IN  GENOA — THE  LAD  AND  HIS  MOTHER  ...  24 

CHAPTER  III.     1851-1858 

RETURN  TO  ENGLAND — FLEEMING  AT  FAIRBAIRN'S — EXPERIENCE  IN  A 
STRIKE — DR.  BELL  AND  GREEK  ARCHITECTURE — THE  GASKELLS — 
FLEEMING  AT  GREENWICH — THE  AUSTINS  —  FLEEMING  AND  THE 
AUSTINS — His  ENGAGEMENT — FLEEMING  AND  SIR  W.  THOMSON  .  49 

CHAPTER  IV.     1859-1868 

FLEEMING'S  MARRIAGE — His  MARRIED  LIFE  —  PROFESSIONAL  DIFFI- 
CULTIES—  LIFE  AT  CLAYGATE — ILLNESS  OF  MRS.  F.  JENKIN  ;  AND  OF 
FLEEMING — APPOINTMENT  TO  THE  CHAIR  AT  EDINBURGH  ...  69 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 


CHAPTER  I 

The  Jenkins  of  Stowting — Fleeming's  grandfather  —  Mrs.  Buckner's 
fortune — Fleeming's  father;  goes  to  sea;  at  St.  Helena;  meets 
King  Tom;  service  in  the  West  Indies;  end  of  his  career  —  The 
Campbell-jacksons  —  Fleeming's  mother  —  Fleeming's  uncle  John. 

IN  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  a  family  of  the  name  of 
Jenkin,  claiming  to  come  from  York,  and  bearing 
the  arms  of  Jenkin  ap  Philip  of  St.  Melans,  are  found 
reputably  settled  in  the  county  of  Kent.  Persons  of 
strong  genealogical  pinion  pass  from  William  Jenkin, 
Mayor  of  Folkestone  in  1555,  to  his  contemporary  "John 
Jenkin,  of  the  Citie  of  York,  Receiver  General  of  the 
County,"  and  thence,  by  way  of  Jenkin  ap  Philip,  to  the 
proper  summit  of  any  Cambrian  pedigree  —  a  prince; 
"Guaith  Voeth,  Lord  of  Cardigan,"  the  name  and  style 
of  him.  It  may  suffice,  however,  for  the  present,  that 
these  Kentish  Jenkins  must  have  undoubtedly  derived 
from  Wales,  and  being  a  stock  of  some  efficiency,  they 
struck  root  and  grew  to  wealth  and  consequence  in  their 
new  home. 

Of  their  consequence  we  have  proof  enough  in  the 
fact  that  not  only  was  William  Jenkin  (as  already  men- 
tioned) Mayor  of  Folkestone  in  1555,  but  no  less  than 
twenty-three  times  in  the  succeeding  century  and  a 
half,  a  Jenkin  (William,  Thomas,  Henry,  or  Robert)  sat 
in  the  same  place  of  humble  honour.  Of  their  wealth 

i 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

we  know  that  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  Thomas  Jenkin 
of  Eythorne  was  more  than  once  in  the  market  buying 
land,  and  notably,  in  1633,  acquired  the  manor  of  Stow- 
ting  Court.  This  was  an  estate  of  some  320  acres,  six 
miles  from  Hythe,  in  the  Bailiwick  and  Hundred  of 
Stowting,  and  the  Lathe  of  Shipway,  held  of  the  Crown 
in  capite  by  the  service  of  six  men  and  a  constable  to 
defend  the  passage  of  the  sea  at  Sandgate.  It  had  a 
chequered  history  before  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  Thomas 
of  Eythorne,  having  been  sold  and  given  from  one  to 
another  —  to  the  Archbishop,  to  Heringods,  to  the 
Burghershes,  to  Pavelys,  Trivets,  Cliffords,  Wenlocks, 
Beauchamps,  Nevilles,  Kempes,  and  Clarkes:  a  piece 
of  Kentish  ground  condemned  to  see  new  faces  and  to  be 
no  man's  home.  But  from  1633  onward  it  became  the 
anchor  of  the  Jenkin  family  in  Kent;  and  though  passed 
on  from  brother  to  brother,  held  in  shares  between 
uncle  and  nephew,  burthened  by  debts  and  jointures, 
and  at  least  once  sold  and  bought  in  again,  it  remains 
to  this  day  in  the  hands  of  the  direct  line.  It  is  not  my 
design,  nor  have  I  the  necessary  knowledge,  to  give  a 
history  of  this  obscure  family.  But  this  is  an  age  when 
genealogy  has  taken  a  new  lease  of  life,  and  become  for 
the  first  time  a  human  science;  so  that  we  no  longer 
study  it  in  quest  of  the  Guaith  Voeths,  but  to  trace  out 
some  of  the  secrets  of  descent  and  destiny ;  and  as  we 
study,  we  think  less  of  Sir  Bernard  Burke  and  more  of 
Mr.  Galton.  Not  only  do  our  character  and  talents  lie 
upon  the  anvil  and  receive  their  temper  during  genera- 
tions ;  but  the  very  plot  of  our  life's  story  unfolds  itself 
on  a  scale  of  centuries,  and  the  biography  of  the  man 
is  only  an  episode  in  the  epic  of  the  family.  From  this 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

point  of  view  I  ask  the  reader's  leave  to  begin  this  no- 
tice of  a  remarkable  man  who  was  my  friend,  with  the 
accession  of  his  great-grandfather,  John  Jenkin. 

This  John  Jenkin,  a  grandson  of  Damaris  Kingsley, 
of  the  family  of  "Westward  Ho!"  was  born  in  1727, 
and  married  Elizabeth,  daughter  of  Thomas  Frewen,  of 
Church  House,  Northiam.  The  Jenkins  had  now  been 
long  enough  intermarrying  with  their  Kentish  neigh- 
bours to  be  Kentish  folk  themselves  in  all  but  name; 
and  with  the  Frewens  in  particular  their  connection 
is  singularly  involved.  John  and  his  wife  were  each 
descended  in  the  third  degree  from  another  Thomas 
Frewen,  Vicar  of  Northiam,  and  brother  to  Accepted 
Frewen,  Archbishop  of  York.  John's  mother  had  mar- 
ried a  Frewen  for  a  second  husband.  And  the  last 
complication  was  to  be  added  by  the  Bishop  of  Chiches- 
ter's  brother,  Charles  Buckner,  Vice-Admiral  of  the 
White,  who  was  twice  married,  first  to  a  paternal 
cousin  of  Squire  John,  and  second  to  Anne,  only  sister 
of  the  Squire's  wife,  and  already  the  widow  of  another 
Frewen.  The  reader  must  bear  Mrs.  Buckner  in  mind; 
it  was  by  means  of  that  lady  that  Fleeming  Jenkin  began 
life  as  a  poor  man.  Meanwhile,  the  relationship  of  any 
Frewen  to  any  Jenkin  at  the  end  of  these  evolutions 
presents  a  problem  almost  insoluble;  and  we  need  not 
wonder  if  Mrs.  John,  thus  exercised  in  her  immediate 
circle,  was  in  her  old  age  "a  great  genealogist  of  all 
Sussex  families,  and  much  consulted."  The  names 
Frewen  and  Jenkin  may  almost  seem  to  have  been  in- 
terchangeable at  will;  and  yet  Fate  proceeds  with  such 
particularity  that  it  was  perhaps  on  the  point  of  name 
that  the  family  was  ruined. 

3 


MEMOIR  OF   FIEEMING  JENKIN 

The  John  Jenkins  had  a  family  of  one  daughter  and 
five  extravagant  and  unpractical  sons.  The  eldest, 
Stephen,  entered  the  Church  and  held  the  living  of  Sale- 
hurst,  where  he  offered,  we  may  hope,  an  extreme  ex- 
ample of  the  clergy  of  the  age.  He  was  a  handsome 
figure  of  a  man;  jovial  and  jocular;  fond  of  his  garden, 
which  produced  under  his  care  the  finest  fruits  of  the 
neighbourhood ;  and  like  all  the  family,  very  choice  in 
horses.  He  drove  tandem;  like  Jehu,  furiously.  His 
saddle  horse,  Captain  (for  the  names  of  horses  are  pi- 
ously preserved  in  the  family  chronicle  which  I  follow), 
was  trained  to  break  into  a  gallop  as  soon  as  the  vicar's 
foot  was  thrown  across  its  back ;  nor  would  the  rein  be 
drawn  in  the  nine  miles  between  Northiam  and  the 
Vicarage  door.  Debt  was  the  man's  proper  element; 
he  used  to  skulk  from  arrest  in  the  chancel  of  his 
church ;  and  the  speed  of  Captain  may  have  come  some- 
times handy.  At  an  early  age  this  unconventional  par- 
son married  his  cook,  and  by  her  he  had  two  daughters 
and  one  son.  One  of  the  daughters  died  unmarried ; 
the  other  imitated  her  father,  and  married  "imprudent- 
ly." The  son,  still  more  gallantly  continuing  the  tra- 
dition, entered  the  army,  loaded  himself  with  debt,  was 
forced  to  sell  out,  took  refuge  in  the  Marines,  and  was 
lost  on  the  Dogger  Bank  in  the  war-ship  Minotaur.  If 
he  did  not  marry  below  him,  like  his  father,  his  sister, 
and  a  certain  great-uncle  William,  it  was  perhaps  be- 
cause he  never  married  at  all. 

The  second  brother,  Thomas,  who  was  employed  in 
the  General  Post-Office,  followed  in  all  material  points 
the  example  of  Stephen,  married  "not  very  creditably," 
and  spent  all  the  money  he  could  lay  his  hands  on.  He 

4 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

died  without  issue;  as  did  the  fourth  brother,  John, 
who  was  of  weak  intellect  and  feeble  health,  and  the 
fifth  brother,  William,  whose  brief  career  as  one  of  Mrs. 
Buckner's  satellites  will  fall  to  be  considered  later  on. 
So  soon,  then,  as  the  Minotaur  had  struck  upon  the 
Dogger  Bank,  Stowting  and  the  line  of  the  Jenkin  family 
fell  on  the  shoulders  of  the  third  brother,  Charles. 

Facility  and  self-indulgence  are  the  family  marks;  fa- 
cility (to  judge  by  these  imprudent  marriages)  being  at 
once  their  quality  and  their  defect;  but  in  the  case  of 
Charles,  a  man  of  exceptional  beauty  and  sweetness 
both  of  face  and  disposition,  the  family  fault  had  quite 
grown  to  be  a  virtue,  and  we  find  him  in  consequence 
the  drudge  and  milk-cow  of  his  relatives.  Born  in  1766, 
Charles  served  at  sea  in  his  youth,  and  smelt  both  salt 
water  and  powder.  The  Jenkins  had  inclined  hitherto, 
as  far  as  I  can  make  out,  to  the  land  service.  Stephen's 
son  had  been  a  soldier;  William  (fourth  of  Stowting) 
had  been  an  officer  of  the  unhappy  Braddock's  in  Amer- 
ica, where,  by  the  way,  he  owned  and  afterwards  sold 
an  estate  on  the  James  River,  called  after  the  parental 
seat;  of  which  I  should  like  well  to  hear  if  it  still  bears 
the  name.  It  was  probably  by  the  influence  of  Captain 
Buckner,  already  connected  with  the  family  by  his  first 
marriage,  that  Charles  Jenkin  turned  his  mind  in  the 
direction  of  the  navy;  and  it  was  in  Buckner's  own 
ship,  the  Protbee,  64,  that  the  lad  made  his  only  cam- 
paign. It  was  in  the  days  of  Rodney's  war,  when  the 
ProtUe,  we  read,  captured  two  large  privateers  to  wind- 
ward of  Barbadoes,  and  was  "materially  and  distin- 
guishedly  engaged"  in  both  the  actions  with  De  Grasse. 
While  at  sea  Charles  kept  a  journal,  and  made  strange 

5 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

archaic  pilot-book  sketches,  part  plan,  part  elevation, 
some  of  which  survive  for  the  amusement  of  posterity. 
He  did  a  good  deal  of  surveying,  so  that  here  we  may 
perhaps  lay  our  finger  on  the  beginning  of  Fleeming's 
education  as  an  engineer.  What  is  still  more  strange, 
among  the  relics  of  the  handsome  midshipman  and  his 
stay  in  the  gun-room  of  the  Protbte,  I  find  a  code  of 
signals  graphically  represented,  for  all  the  world  as  it 
would  have  been  done  by  his  grandson. 

On  the  declaration  of  peace,  Charles,  because  he  had 
suffered  from  scurvy,  received  his  mother's  orders  to  re- 
tire ;  and  he  was  not  the  man  to  refuse  a  request,  far  less 
to  disobey  a  command.  Thereupon  he  turned  farmer, 
a  trade  he  was  to  practice  on  a  large  scale;  and  we  find 
him  married  to  a  Miss  Schirr,  a  woman  of  some  fortune, 
the  daughter  of  a  London  merchant.  Stephen,  the  not 
very  reverend,  was  still  alive,  galloping  about  the  coun- 
try or  skulking  in  his  chancel.  It  does  not  appear 
whether  he  let  or  sold  the  paternal  manor  to  Charles; 
one  or  other,  it  must  have  been ;  and  the  sailor-farmer 
settled  at  Stowting,  with  his  wife,  his  mother,  his  un- 
married sister,  and  his  sick  brother  John.  Out  of  the 
six  people  of  whom  his  nearest  family  consisted,  three 
were  in  his  own  house,  and  two  others  (the  horse- 
leeches, Stephen  and  Thomas)  he  appears  to  have  con- 
tinued to  assist  with  more  amiability  than  wisdom. 
He  hunted,  belonged  to  the  Yeomanry,  owned  famous 
horses,  Maggie  and  Lucy,  the  latter  coveted  by  royalty 
itself.  "Lord  Rokeby,  his  neighbour,  called  him  kins- 
man," writes  my  artless  chronicler,  "  and  altogether  life 
was  very  cheery."  At  Stowting  his  three  sons,  John, 
Charles,  and  Thomas  Frewen,  and  his  younger  daugh- 

6 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENK1N 

ter,  Anna,  were  all  born  to  him ;  and  the  reader  should 
here  be  told  that  it  is  through  the  report  of  this  second 
Charles  (born  1801)  that  he  has  been  looking  on  at  these 
confused  passages  of  family  history. 

In  the  year  1805  the  ruin  of  the  Jenkins  was  begun. 
It  was  the  work  of  a  fallacious  lady  already  mentioned, 
Aunt  Anne  Frewen,  a  sister  of  Mrs.  John.  Twice  mar- 
ried, first  to  her  cousin  Charles  Frewen,  clerk  to  the 
Court  of  Chancery,  Brunswick  Herald,  and  Usher  of 
the  Black  Rod,  and  secondly  to  Admiral  Buckner,  she 
was  denied  issue  in  both  beds,  and  being  very  rich  — 
she  died  worth  about  6o,ooo/.,  mostly  in  land  —  she 
was  in  perpetual  quest  of  an  heir.  The  mirage  of  this 
fortune  hung  before  successive  members  of  the  Jen- 
kin  family  until  her  death  in  1825,  when  it  dissolved 
and  left  the  latest  Alnaschar  face  to  face  with  bankruptcy. 
The  grandniece,  Stephen's  daughter,  the  one  who  had 
not  "married  imprudently,"  appears  to  have  been  the 
first;  for  she  was  taken  abroad  by  the  golden  aunt,  and 
died  in  her  care  at  Ghent  in  1792.  Next  she  adopted 
William,  the  youngest  of  the  five  nephews;  took  him 
abroad  with  her  —  it  seems  as  if  that  were  in  the  for- 
mula; was  shut  up  with  him  in  Paris  by  the  Revolution; 
brought  him  back  to  Windsor,  and  got  him  a  place  in 
the  King's  Body-Guard,  where  he  attracted  the  notice 
of  George  III.  by  his  proficiency  in  German.  In  1797, 
being  on  guard  at  St.  James's  Palace,  William  took  a  cold 
which  carried  him  off;  and  Aunt  Anne  was  once  more 
left  heirless.  Lastly,  in  1805,  perhaps  moved  by  the 
Admiral,  who  had  a  kindness  for  his  old  midshipman, 
perhaps  pleased  by  the  good  looks  and  the  good  nature 
of  the  man  himself,  Mrs.  Buckner  turned  her  eyes  upon 

7 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Charles  Jenkin.  He  was  not  only  to  be  the  heir,  how- 
ever, he  was  to  be  the  chief  hand  in  a  somewhat  wild 
scheme  of  family  farming.  Mrs.  Jenkin,  the  mother, 
contributed  164  acres  of  land;  Mrs.  Buckner,  570,  some 
at  Northiam,  some  farther  off;  Charles  let  one-half  of 
Stowting  to  a  tenant,  and  threw  the  other  and  various 
scattered  parcels  into  the  common  enterprise;  so  that 
the  whole  farm  amounted  to  near  upon  a  thousand 
acres,  and  was  scattered  over  thirty  miles  of  country. 
The  ex-seaman  of  thirty-nine,  on  whose  wisdom  and 
ubiquity  the  scheme  depended,  was  to  live  in  the  mean- 
while without  care  or  fear.  He  was  to  check  himself  in 
nothing;  his  two  extravagances,  valuable  horses  and 
worthless  brothers,  were  to  be  indulged  in  comfort;  and 
whether  the  year  quite  paid  itself  or  not,  whether  suc- 
cessive years  left  accumulated  savings  or  only  a  grow- 
ing deficit,  the  fortune  of  the  golden  aunt  should  in  the 
end  repair  all. 

On  this  understanding  Charles  Jenkin  transported 
his  family  to  Church  House,  Northiam:  Charles  the 
second,  then  a  child  of  three  among  the  number. 
Through  the  eyes  of  the  boy  we  have  glimpses  of  the  life 
that  followed :  of  Admiral  and  Mrs.  Buckner  driving  up 
from  Windsor  in  a  coach  and  six,  two  post-horses  and 
their  own  four;  of  the  house  full  of  visitors,  the  great 
roasts  at  the  fire,  the  tables  in  the  servants'  hall  laid  for 
thirty  or  forty  for  a  month  together;  of  the  daily  press 
of  neighbours,  many  of  whom,  Frewens,  Lords,  Bishops, 
Batchellors,  and  Dynes,  were  also  kinsfolk;  and  the 
parties  "under  the  great  spreading  chestnuts  of  the  old 
fore  court,"  where  the  young  people  danced  and  made 
merry  to  the  music  of  the  village  band.  Or  perhaps,  in 

8 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

the  depth  of  winter,  the  father  would  bid  young  Charles 
saddle  his  pony;  they  would  ride  the  thirty  miles  from 
Northiam  to  Stowting,  with  the  snow  to  the  pony's 
saddle  girths,  and  be  received  by  the  tenants  like 
princes. 

This  life  of  delights,  with  the  continual  visible  com- 
ings and  goings  of  the  golden  aunt,  was  well  qualified 
to  relax  the  fiber  of  the  lads.  John,  the  heir,  a  yeoman 
and  a  fox-hunter,  "loud  and  notorious  with  his  whip 
and  spurs,"  settled  down  into  a  kind  of  Tony  Lumpkin, 
waiting  for  the  shoes  of  his  father  and  his  aunt  Thomas 
Frewen,  the  youngest,  is  briefly  dismissed  as  "a  hand- 
some beau  " ;  but  he  had  the  merit  or  the  good  fortune 
to  become  a  doctor  of  medicine,  so  that  when  the  crash 
came  he  was  not  empty-handed  for  the  war  of  life. 
Charles,  at  the  day-school  of  Northiam,  grew  so  well 
acquainted  with  the  rod,  that  his  floggings  became  mat- 
ter of  pleasantry  and  reached  the  ears  of  Admiral  Buck- 
ner.  Hereupon  that  tall,  rough-voiced  formidable  uncle 
entered  with  the  lad  into  a  covenant:  every  time  that 
Charles  was  thrashed  he  was  to  pay  the  Admiral  a 
penny ;  every  day  that  he  escaped,  the  process  was  to 
be  reversed.  "I  recollect,"  writes  Charles,  "going  cry- 
ing to  my  mother  to  be  taken  to  the  Admiral  to  pay  my 
debt."  It  would  seem  by  these  terms  the  speculation 
was  a  losing  one ;  yet  it  is  probable  it  paid  indirectly  by 
bringing  the  boy  under  remark.  The  Admiral  was  no 
enemy  to  dunces;  he  loved  courage,  and  Charles,  while 
yet  little  more  than  a  baby,  would  ride  the  great  horse 
into  the  pond.  Presently  it  was  decided  that  here  was 
the  stuff  of  a  fine  sailor;  and  at  an  early  period  the 
name  of  Charles  Jenkin  was  entered  on  a  ship's  books. 

9 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

From  Northiam  he  was  sent  to  another  school  at 
Boonshill,  near  Rye,  where  the  master  took  "infinite 
delight"  in  strapping  him.  "It  keeps  me  warm  and 
makes  you  grow,"  he  used  to  say.  And  the  stripes 
were  not  altogether  wasted,  for  the  dunce,  though  still 
very  "raw,"  made  progress  with  his  studies.  It  was 
known,  moreover,  that  he  was  going  to  sea,  always  a 
ground  of  pre-eminence  with  schoolboys;  and  in  his 
case  the  glory  was  not  altogether  future,  it  wore  a  pres- 
ent form  when  he  came  driving  to  Rye  behind  four 
horses  in  the  same  carriage  with  an  Admiral.  "I  was 
not  a  little  proud,  you  may  believe,"  says  he. 

In  1814,  when  he  was  thirteen  years  of  age,  he  was 
carried  by  his  father  to  Chichester  to  the  Bishop's  Pal- 
ace. The  Bishop  had  heard  from  his  brother  the  Ad- 
miral that  Charles  was  likely  to  do  well,  and  had  an 
order  from  Lord  Melville  for  the  lad's  admission  to  the 
Royal  Naval  College  at  Portsmouth.  Both  the  Bishop 
and  the  Admiral  patted  him  on  the  head  and  said, 
"Charles  will  restore  the  old  family";  by  which  I 
gather  with  some  surprise  that,  even  in  these  days  of 
open  house  at  Northiam  and  golden  hope  of  my  aunt's 
fortune,  the  family  was  supposed  to  stand  in  need  of 
restoration.  But  the  past  is  apt  to  look  brighter  than 
nature,  above  all  to  those  enamoured  of  their  geneal- 
ogy ;  and  the  ravages  of  Stephen  and  Thomas  must  have 
always  given  matter  of  alarm. 

What  with  the  flattery  of  bishops  and  admirals,  the 
fine  company  in  which  he  found  himself  at  Portsmouth, 
his  visits  home,  with  their  gaiety  and  greatness  of  life, 
his  visits  to  Mrs.  Buckner  (soon  a  widow)  at  Windsor, 
where  he  had  a  pony  kept  for  him,  and  visited  at  Lord 

to 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Melville's  and  Lord  Harcourt's  and  the  Leveson-Gowers, 
he  began  to  have  "bumptious  notions,"  and  his  head 
was  "somewhat  turned  with  fine  people";  as  to  some 
extent  it  remained  throughout  his  innocent  and  hon- 
ourable life. 

In  this  frame  of  mind  the  boy  was  appointed  to  the 
Conqueror,  Captain  Davie,  humorously  known  as  Gen- 
tle Johnnie.  The  captain  had  earned  this  name  by  his 
style  of  discipline,  which  would  have  figured  well  in 
the  pages  of  Marryat:  "  Put  the  prisoner's  head  in  a  bag 
and  give  him  another  dozen!"  survives  as  a  specimen 
of  his  commands;  and  the  men  were  often  punished 
twice  or  thrice  in  a  week.  On  board  the  ship  of  this 
disciplinarian,  Charles  and  his  father  were  carried  in  a 
billy-boat  from  Sheerness  in  December,  1816:  Charles 
with  an  outfit  suitable  to  his  pretensions,  a  twenty- 
guinea  sextant  and  120  dollars  in  silver,  which  were 
ordered  into  the  care  of  the  gunner.  "The  old  clerks 
and  mates,"  he  writes,  "used  to  laugh  and  jeer  me  for 
joining  the  ship  in  a  billy-boat,  and  when  they  found  I 
was  from  Kent,  vowed  I  was  an  old  Kentish  smuggler. 
This  to  my  pride,  you  will  believe,  was  not  a  little 
offensive." 

The  Conqueror  carried  the  flag  of  Vice-Admiral  Plam- 
pin,  commanding  at  the  Cape  and  St.  Helena;  and  at 
that  all-important  islet,  in  July,  1817,  she  relieved  the 
flagship  of  Sir  Pulteney  Malcolm.  Thus  it  befel  that 
Charles  Jenkin,  coming  too  late  for  the  epic  of  the 
French  wars,  played  a  small  part  in  the  dreary  and  dis- 
graceful afterpiece  of  St.  Helena.  Life  on  the  guard- 
ship  was  onerous  and  irksome.  The  anchor  was  never 
lifted,  sail  never  made,  the  great  guns  were  silent;  none 

n 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENK1N 

was  allowed  on  shore  except  on  duty ;  all  day  the  move- 
ments of  the  imperial  captive  were  signalled  to  and  fro; 
all  night  the  boats  rowed  guard  around  the  accessible 
portions  of  the  coast.  This  prolonged  stagnation  and 
petty  watchfulness  in  what  Napoleon  himself  called  that 
"  unchristian  "  climate,  told  cruelly  on  the  health  of  the 
ship's  company.  In  eighteen  months,  according  to 
O'Meara,  the  Conqueror  had  lost  one  hundred  and  ten 
men  and  invalided  home  one  hundred  and  seven,  "be- 
ing more  than  a  third  of  her  complement."  It  does  not 
seem  that  our  young  midshipman  so  much  as  once  set 
eyes  on  Bonaparte;  and  yet  in  other  ways  Jenkin  was 
more  fortunate  than  some  of  his  comrades.  He  drew 
in  water-colour;  not  so  badly  as  his  father,  yet  ill 
enough ;  and  this  art  was  so  rare  aboard  the  Conqueror 
that  even  his  humble  proficiency  marked  him  out  and 
procured  him  some  alleviations.  Admiral  Plampin  had 
succeeded  Napoleon  at  the  Briars;  and  here  he  had 
young  Jenkin  staying  with  him  to  make  sketches  of  the 
historic  house.  One  of  these  is  before  me  as  I  write, 
and  gives  a  strange  notion  of  the  arts  in  our  old  English 
Navy.  Yet  it  was  again  as  an  artist  that  the  lad  was 
taken  for  a  run  to  Rio,  and  apparently  for  a  second  out- 
ing in  a  ten-gun  brig.  These,  and  a  cruise  of  six  weeks 
to  windward  of  the  island  undertaken  by  the  Conqueror 
herself  in  quest  of  health,  were  the  only  breaks  in  three 
years  of  murderous  inaction ;  and  at  the  end  of  that  pe- 
riod Jenkin  was  invalided  home,  having  "lost  his 
health  entirely." 

As  he  left  the  deck  of  the  guardship  the  historic  part 
of  his  career  came  to  an  end.  For  forty-two  years  he 
continued  to  serve  his  country  obscurely  on  the  seas, 

12 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

sometimes  thanked  for  inconspicuous  and  honourable 
services,  but  denied  any  opportunity  of  serious  distinc- 
tion. He  was  first  two  years  in  the  Larne,  Captain 
Tait,  hunting  pirates  and  keeping  a  watch  on  the  Turk- 
ish and  Greek  squadrons  in  the  Archipelago.  Captain 
Tait  was  a  favourite  with  Sir  Thomas  Maitland,  High 
Commissioner  of  the  Ionian  Islands  —  King  Tom  as  he 
was  called  —  who  frequently  took  passage  in  the  Larne. 
King  Tom  knew  every  inch  of  the  Mediterranean,  and 
was  a  terror  to  the  officers  of  the  watch.  He  would 
come  on  deck  at  night;  and  with  his  broad  Scotch  ac- 
cent, "Well,  sir,"  he  would  say,  "what  depth  of  water 
have  ye  ?  Well  now,  sound ;  and  ye'll  just  find  so  or 
so  many  fathoms,"  as  the  case  might  be;  and  the  ob- 
noxious passenger  was  generally  right.  On  one  occa- 
sion, as  the  ship  was  going  into  Corfu,  Sir  Thomas 
came  up  the  hatchway  and  cast  his  eyes  towards  the 
gallows.  "  Bangham"  —  Charles  Jenkin  heard  him  say 
to  his  aide-de-camp,  Lord  Bangham  — "  where  the  devil 
is  that  other  chap  ?  I  left  four  fellows  hanging  there ; 
now  I  can  only  see  three.  Mind  there  is  another  there 
to-morrow."  And  sure  enough  there  was  another 
Greek  dangling  the  next  day.  "Captain  Hamilton,  of 
the  Cambrian,  kept  the  Greeks  in  order  afloat,"  writes 
my  author,  "and  King  Tom  ashore." 

From  1823  onward,  the  chief  scene  of  Charles  Jenkin's 
activities  was  in  the  West  Indies,  where  he  was  en- 
gaged off  and  on  till  1844,  now  as  a  subaltern,  now  in  a 
vessel  of  his  own,  hunting  out  pirates,  "then  very  no- 
torious" in  the  Leeward  Islands,  cruising  after  slavers, 
or  carrying  dollars  and  provisions  for  the  Government. 
While  yet  a  midshipman,  he  accompanied  Mr.  Cock- 

'3 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

burn  to  Caraccas  and  had  a  sight  of  Bolivar.  In  the 
brigantine  Griffon,  which  he  commanded  in  his  last 
years  in  the  West  Indies,  he  carried  aid  to  Guadeloupe 
after  the  earthquake,  and  twice  earned  the  thanks  of 
Government:  once  for  an  expedition  to  Nicaragua  to 
extort,  under  threat  of  a  blockade,  proper  apologies  and 
a  sum  of  money  due  to  certain  British  merchants ;  and 
once  during  an  insurrection  in  San  Domingo,  for  the 
rescue  of  certain  others  from  a  perilous  imprisonment 
and  the  recovery  of  a  "chest  of  money  "  of  which  they 
had  been  robbed.  Once,  on  the  other  hand,  he  earned 
his  share  of  public  censure.  This  was  in  1837,  when 
he  commanded  the  Romney,  lying  in  the  inner  harbour 
of  Havannah.  The  Romney  was  in  no  proper  sense  a 
man-of-war;  she  was  a  slave-hulk,  the  bonded  ware- 
house of  the  Mixed  Slave  Commission;  where  negroes, 
captured  out  of  slavers  under  Spanish  colours,  were  de- 
tained provisionally,  till  the  Commission  should  decide 
upon  their  case  and  either  set  them  free  or  bind  them  to 
apprenticeship.  To  this  ship,  already  an  eyesore  to  the 
authorities,  a  Cuban  slave  made  his  escape.  The  posi- 
tion was  invidious;  on  one  side  were  the  tradition  of 
the  British  flag  and  the  state  of  public  sentiment  at 
home ;  on  the  other,  the  certainty  that  if  the  slave  were 
kept,  the  Romney  would  be  ordered  at  once  out  of  the 
harbour,  and  the  object  of  the  Mixed  Commission  com- 
promised. Without  consultation  with  any  other  officer, 
Captain  Jenkin  (then  lieutenant)  returned  the  man  to 
shore  and  took  the  Captain-General's  receipt.  Lord 
Palmerston  approved  his  course ;  but  the  zealots  of  the 
anti-slave  trade  movement  (never  to  be  named  without 
respect)  were  much  dissatisfied;  and  thirty-nine  years 

«4 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

later,  the  matter  was  again  canvassed  in  Parliament, 
and  Lord  Palmerston  and  Captain  Jenkin  defended  by 
Admiral  Erskine  in  a  letter  to  the  Times  (March  13,  1876). 

In  1845,  while  still  lieutenant,  Charles  Jenkin  acted  as 
Admiral  Pigot's  flag  captain  in  the  Cove  of  Cork, 
where  there  were  some  thirty  pennants ;  and  about  the 
same  time,  closed  his  career  by  an  act  of  personal  brav- 
ery. He  had  proceeded  with  his  boats  to  the  help  of  a 
merchant  vessel,  whose  cargo  of  combustibles  had  taken 
fire  and  was  smouldering  under  hatches;  his  sailors 
were  in  the  hold,  where  the  fumes  were  already  heavy, 
and  Jenkin  was  on  deck  directing  operations,  when  he 
found  his  orders  were  no  longer  answered  from  below : 
he  jumped  down  without  hesitation  and  slung  up  sev- 
eral insensible  men  with  his  own  hand.  For  this  act, 
he  received  a  letter  from  the  Lords  of  the  Admiralty  ex- 
pressing a  sense  of  his  gallantry ;  and  pretty  soon  after 
was  promoted  Commander,  superseded,  and  could 
never  again  obtain  employment. 

In  1828  or  1829,  Charles  Jenkin  was  in  the  same 
watch  with  another  midshipman,  Robert  Colin  Camp- 
bell Jackson,  who  introduced  him  to  his  family  in  Ja- 
maica. The  father,  the  Honourable  Robert  Jackson, 
Gustos  Rotulorum  of  Kingston,  came  of  a  Yorkshire 
family,  said  to  be  originally  Scotch ;  and  on  the  mother's 
side,  counted  kinship  with  some  of  the  Forbeses.  The 
mother  was  Susan  Campbell,  one  of  the  Campbells  of 
Auchenbreck.  Her  father  Colin,  a  merchant  in  Green- 
ock,  is  said  to  have  been  the  heir  to  both  the  estate  and 
the  baronetcy;  he  claimed  neither,  which  casts  a  doubt 
upon  the  fact;  but  he  had  pride  enough  himself,  and 
taught  enough  pride  to  his  family,  for  any  station  or 

'5 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

descent  in  Christendom.  He  had  four  daughters.  One 
married  an  Edinburgh  writer,  as  I  have  it  on  a  first  ac- 
count—  a  minister,  according  to  another — a  man  at 
least  of  reasonable  station,  but  not  good  enough  for  the 
Campbells  of  Auchenbreck ;  and  the  erring  one  was  in- 
stantly discarded.  Another  married  an  actor  of  the 
name  of  Adcock,  whom  (as  I  receive  the  tale)  she  had 
seen  acting  in  a  barn;  but  the  phrase  should  perhaps 
be  regarded  rather  as  a  measure  of  the  family  annoy- 
ance, than  a  mirror  of  the  facts.  The  marriage  was  not 
in  itself  unhappy;  Adcock  was  a  gentleman  by  birth 
and  made  a  good  husband;  the  family  reasonably  pros- 
pered, and  one  of  the  daughters  married  no  less  a  man 
than  Clarkson  Stanfield.  But  by  the  father,  and  the  two 
remaining  Miss  Campbells,  people  of  fierce  passions  and 
a  truly  Highland  pride,  the  derogation  was  bitterly  re- 
sented. For  long  the  sisters  lived  estranged,  then  Mrs. 
Jackson  and  Mrs.  Adcock  were  reconciled  for  a  mo- 
ment, only  to  quarrel  the  more  fiercely ;  the  name  of 
Mrs.  Adcock  was  proscribed,  nor  did  it  again  pass  her 
sister's  lips,  until  the  morning  when  she  announced: 
"Mary  Adcock  is  dead;  I  saw  her  in  her  shroud  last 
night."  Second  sight  was  hereditary  in  the  house;  and 
sure  enough,  as  I  have  it  reported,  on  that  very  night 
Mrs.  Adcock  had  passed  away.  Thus,  of  the  four 
daughters,  two  had,  according  to  the  idiotic  notions  of 
their  friends,  disgraced  themselves  in  marriage;  the 
others  supported  the  honour  of  the  family  with  a  better 
grace,  and  married  West  Indian  magnates  of  whom,  I 
believe,  the  world  has  never  heard  and  would  not  care 
to  hear:  So  strange  a  thing  is  this  hereditary  pride.  Of 
Mr.  Jackson,  beyond  the  fact  that  he  was  Fleeming's 

16 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

grandfather,  I  know  naught.  His  wife,  as  I  have  said, 
was  a  woman  of  fierce  passions;  she  would  tie  her 
house  slaves  to  the  bed  and  lash  them  with  her  own 
hand;  and  her  conduct  to  her  wild  and  down-going 
sons,  was  a  mixture  of  almost  insane  self-sacrifice  and 
wholly  insane  violence  of  temper.  She  had  three  sons 
and  one  daughter.  Two  of  the  sons  went  utterly  to 
ruin,  and  reduced  their  mother  to  poverty.  The  third 
went  to  India,  a  slim,  delicate  lad,  and  passed  so  wholly 
from  the  knowledge  of  his  relatives  that  he  was  thought 
to  be  long  dead.  Years  later,  when  his  sister  was  liv- 
ing in  Genoa,  a  red-bearded  man  of  great  strength  and 
stature,  tanned  by  years  in  India,  and  his  hands  covered 
with  barbaric  gems,  entered  the  room  unannounced,  as 
she  was  playing  the  piano,  lifted  her  from  her  seat,  and 
kissed  her.  It  was  her  brother,  suddenly  returned 
out  of  a  past  that  was  never  very  clearly  understood, 
with  the  rank  of  general,  many  strange  gems,  many 
cloudy  stories  of  adventure,  and  next  his  heart,  the 
daguerreotype  of  an  Indian  prince  with  whom  he  had 
mixed  blood. 

The  last  of  this  wild  family,  the  daughter,  Henrietta 
Camilla,  became  the  wife  of  the  midshipman  Charles, 
and  the  mother  of  the  subject  of  this  notice,  Fleeming 
Jenkin.  She  was  a  woman  of  parts  and  courage.  Not 
beautiful,  she  had  a  far  higher  gift,  the  art  of  seeming 
so ;  played  the  part  of  a  belle  in  society,  while  far  lovelier 
women  were  left  unattended;  and  up  to  old  age,  had 
much  of  both  the  exigency  and  the  charm  that  mark 
that  character.  She  drew  naturally,  for  she  had  no 
training,  with  unusual  skill ;  and  it  was  from  her,  and 
not  from  the  two  naval  artists,  that  Fleeming  inherited 

>7 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

his  eye  and  hand.  She  played  on  the  harp  and  sang 
with  something  beyond  the  talent  of  an  amateur.  At 
the  age  of  seventeen,  she  heard  Pasta  in  Paris ;  flew  up 
in  a  fire  of  youthful  enthusiasm ;  and  the  next  morning, 
all  alone  and  without  introduction,  found  her  way  into 
the  presence  of  the  prima  donna  and  begged  for  lessons. 
Pasta  made  her  sing,  kissed  her  when  she  had  done,  and 
though  she  refused  to  be  her  mistress,  placed  her  in  the 
hands  of  a  friend.  Nor  was  this  all ;  for  when  Pasta  re- 
turned to  Paris,  she  sent  for  the  girl  (once  at  least)  to 
test  her  progress.  But  Mrs.  Jenkin's  talents  were  not 
so  remarkable  as  her  fortitude  and  strength  of  will ;  and 
it  was  in  an  art  for  which  she  had  no  natural  taste  (the 
art  of  literature)  that  she  appeared  before  the  public. 
Her  novels,  though  they  attained  and  merited  a  certain 
popularity  both  in  France  and  England,  are  a  measure 
only  of  her  courage.  They  were  a  task,  not  a  beloved 
task ;  they  were  written  for  money  in  days  of  poverty, 
and  they  served  their  end.  In  the  least  thing  as  well  as 
in  the  greatest,  in  every  province  of  life  as  well  as  in  her 
novels,  she  displayed  the  same  capacity  of  taking  infinite 
pains,  which  descended  to  her  son.  When  she  was 
about  forty  (as  near  as  her  age  was  known)  she  lost 
her  voice;  set  herself  at  once  to  learn  the  piano,  work- 
ing eight  hours  a  day;  and  attained  to  such  proficiency 
that  her  collaboration  in  chamber  music  was  courted  by 
professionals.  And  more  than  twenty  years  later,  the 
old  lady  might  have  been  seen  dauntlessly  beginning  the 
study  of  Hebrew.  This  is  the  more  ethereal  part  of  cour- 
age; nor  was  she  wanting  in  the  more  material.  Once 
when  a  neighbouring  groom,  a  married  man,  had  se- 
duced her  maid,  Mrs.  Jenkin  mounted  her  horse,  rode 

it 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

over  to  the  stable  entrance  and  horsewhipped  the  man 
with  her  own  hand. 

How  a  match  came  about  between  this  talented  and 
spirited  girl  and  the  young  midshipman,  is  not  very  easy 
to  conceive.  Charles  Jenkin  was  one  of  the  finest  creatures 
breathing;  loyalty,  devotion,  simple  natural  piety,  boyish 
cheerfulness,  tender  and  manly  sentiment  in  the  old 
sailor  fashion,  were  in  him  inherent  and  inextinguishable 
either  by  age,  suffering,  or  injustice.  He  looked,  as  he 
was,  every  inch  a  gentleman ;  he  must  have  been  every- 
where notable,  even  among  handsome  men,  both  for 
his  face  and  his  gallant  bearing;  not  so  much  that  of  a 
sailor,  you  would  have  said,  as  like  one  of  those  gentle 
and  graceful  soldiers  that,  to  this  day,  are  the  most 
pleasant  of  Englishmen  to  see.  But  though  he  was  in 
these  ways  noble,  the  dunce  scholar  of  Northiam  was 
to  the  end  no  genius.  Upon  all  points  that  a  man  must 
understand  to  be  a  gentleman,  to  be  upright,  gallant, 
affectionate  and  dead  to  self,  Captain  Jenkin  was  more 
knowing  than  one  among  a  thousand;  outside  of  that, 
his  mind  was  very  largely  blank.  He  had  indeed  a 
simplicity  that  came  near  to  vacancy;  and  in  the  first 
forty  years  of  his  married  life,  this  want  grew  more  ac- 
centuated. In  both  families  imprudent  marriages  had 
been  the  rule;  but  neither  Jenkin  nor  Campbell  had  ever 
entered  into  a  more  unequal  union.  It  was  the  captain's 
good  looks,  we  may  suppose,  that  gained  for  him  this 
elevation ;  and  in  some  ways  and  for  many  years  of  his 
life,  he  had  to  pay  the  penalty.  His  wife,  impatient  of 
his  incapacity  and  surrounded  by  brilliant  friends,  used 
him  with  a  certain  contempt.  She  was  the  managing 
partner;  the  life  was  hers,  not  his;  after  his  retirement 

19 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

they  lived  much  abroad,  where  the  poor  captain,  who 
could  never  learn  any  language  but  his  own,  sat  in  the 
corner  mumchance;  and  even  his  son,  carried  away  by 
his  bright  mother,  did  not  recognize  for  long  the  treas- 
ures of  simple  chivalry  that  lay  buried  in  the  heart  of 
his  father.  Yet  it  would  be  an  error  to  regard  this  mar- 
riage as  unfortunate.  It  not  only  lasted  long  enough  to 
justify  itself  in  a  beautiful  and  touching  epilogue,  but  it 
gave  to  the  world  the  scientific  work  and  what  (while 
time  was)  were  of  far  greater  value,  the  delightful  quali- 
ties of  Fleeming  Jenkin.  The  Kentish-Welsh  family, 
facile,  extravagant,  generous  to  a  fault  and  far  from 
brilliant,  had  given  the  father,  an  extreme  example  of 
its  humble  virtues.  On  the  other  side,  the  wild,  cruel, 
proud,  and  somewhat  blackguard  stock  of  the  Scotch 
Campbell-Jacksons,  had  put  forth,  in  the  person  of  the 
mother,  all  its  force  and  courage. 

The  marriage  fell  in  evil  days.  In  1823,  the  bubble 
of  the  Golden  Aunt's  inheritance  had  burst.  She  died 
holding  the  hand  of  the  nephew  she  had  so  wantonly 
deceived;  at  the  last  she  drew  him  down  and  seemed 
to  bless  him,  surely  with  some  remorseful  feeling;  for 
when  the  will  was  opened,  there  was  not  found  so 
much  as  the  mention  of  his  name.  He  was  deeply  in 
debt;  in  debt  even  to  the  estate  of  his  deceiver,  so  that 
he  had  to  sell  a  piece  of  land  to  clear  himself.  "My 
dear  boy,"  he  said  to  Charles,  "there  will  be  nothing 
left  for  you.  I  am  a  ruined  man."  And  here  follows 
for  me  the  strangest  part  of  this  story.  From  the  death 
of  the  treacherous  aunt,  Charles  Jenkin,  senior,  had  still 
some  nine  years  to  live;  it  was  perhaps  too  late  for  him 
to  turn  to  saving,  and  perhaps  his  affairs  were  past 

20 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

restoration.  But  his  family  at  least  had  all  this  while 
to  prepare;  they  were  still  young  men,  and  knew  what 
they  had  to  look  for  at  their  father's  death;  and  yet 
when  that  happened  in  September,  1831,  the  heir  was 
still  apathetically  waiting.  Poor  John,  the  days  of  his 
whips  and  spurs,  and  Yeomanry  dinners,  were  quite 
over;  and  with  that  incredible  softness  of  the  Jenkin 
nature,  he  settled  down  for  the  rest  of  a  long  life,  into 
something  not  far  removed  above  a  peasant.  The  mill 
farm  at  Stowting  had  been  saved  out  of  the  wreck;  and 
here  he  built  himself  a  house  on  the  Mexican  model, 
and  made  the  two  ends  meet  with  rustic  thrift,  gather- 
ing dung  with  his  own  hands  upon  the  road  and  not  at 
all  abashed  at  his  employment.  In  dress,  voice,  and 
manner,  he  fell  into  mere  country  plainness;  lived  with- 
out the  least  care  for  appearances,  the  least  regret  for 
the  past  or  discontent  with  the  present;  and  when  he 
came  to  die,  died  with  Stoic  cheerfulness,  announcing 
that  he  had  had  a  comfortable  time  and  was  yet  well 
pleased  to  go.  One  would  think  there  was  little  active 
virtue  to  be  inherited  from  such  a  race;  and  yet  in  this 
same  voluntary  peasant,  the  special  gift  of  Fleeming 
Jenkin  was  already  half  developed.  The  old  man  to 
the  end  was  perpetually  inventing;  his  strange,  ill- 
spelled,  unpunctuated  correspondence  is  full  (when  he 
does  not  drop  into  cookery  receipts)  of  pumps,  road 
engines,  steam-diggers,  steam-ploughs,  and  steam- 
threshing  machines;  and  I  have  it  on  Fleeming's  word 
that  what  he  did  was  full  of  ingenuity  —  only,  as  if  by 
some  cross  destiny,  useless.  These  disappointments 
he  not  only  took  with  imperturbable  good  humor,  but 
rejoiced  with  a  particular  relish  over  his  nephew's  suc- 

21 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

cess  in  the  same  field.  "I  glory  in  the  professor,"  he 
wrote  to  his  brother;  and  to  Fleeming  himself,  with  a 
touch  of  simple  drollery,  "I  was  much  pleased  with 
your  lecture,  but  why  did  you  hit  me  so  hard  with 
Conisure's  "  (connoisseur's,  quasi  amateur's)  "engineer- 
ing? Oh,  what  presumption!  —  either  of  you  or  my- 
self I "  A  quaint,  pathetic  figure,  this  of  uncle  John, 
with  his  dung  cart  and  his  inventions;  and  the  roman- 
tic fancy  of  his  Mexican  house;  and  his  craze  about  the 
Lost  Tribes,  which  seemed  to  the  worthy  man  the  key 
of  all  perplexities;  and  his  quiet  conscience,  looking 
back  on  a  life  not  altogether  vain,  for  he  was  a  good 
son  to  his  father  while  his  father  lived,  and  when  evil 
days  approached,  he  had  proved  himself  a  cheerful 
Stoic. 

It  followed  from  John's  inertia,  that  the  duty  of  wind- 
ing up  the  estate  fell  into  the  hands  of  Charles.  He 
managed  it  with  no  more  skill  than  might  be  expected 
of  a  sailor  ashore,  saved  a  bare  livelihood  for  John  and 
nothing  for  the  rest.  Eight  months  later,  he  married 
Miss  Jackson;  and  with  her  money,  bought  in  some 
two-thirds  of  Stowting.  In  the  beginning  of  the  little 
family  history  which  I  have  been  following  to  so  great 
an  extent,  the  Captain  mentions,  with  a  delightful  pride: 
"A  Court  Baron  and  Court  Leet  are  regularly  held  by 
the  Lady  of  the  Manor,  Mrs.  Henrietta  Camilla  Jenkin"; 
and  indeed  the  pleasure  of  so  describing  his  wife,  was 
the  most  solid  benefit  of  the  investment;  for  the  pur- 
chase was  heavily  encumbered  and  paid  them  nothing 
till  some  years  before  their  death.  In  the  meanwhile, 
the  Jackson  family  also,  what  with  wild  sons,  an  indul- 
gent mother  and  the  impending  emancipation  of  the 

22 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

slaves,  was  moving  nearer  and  nearer  to  beggary;  and 
thus  of  two  doomed  and  declining  houses,  the  subject 
of  this  memoir  was  born,  heir  to  an  estate  and  to  no 
money,  yet  with  inherited  qualities  that  were  to  make 
him  known  and  loved. 


CHAPTER  II 
1833—1851 

Birth  and  Childhood  —  Edinburgh  —  Frankfort-on-the'-Main  —  Paris  — 
The  Revolution  of  1848  — The  Insurrection  —  Flight  to  Italy  — 
Sympathy  with  Italy  —  The  Insurrection  in  Genoa  —  A  Student  in 
Genoa  —  The  Lad  and  his  Mother. 

HENRY  CHARLES  FLEEMING  JENKIN  (Fleeming,  pro- 
nounced Flemming,  to  his  friends  and  family)  was  born 
in  a  Government  building  on  the  coast  of  Kent,  near 
Dungeness,  where  his  father  was  serving  at  the  time  in 
the  Coastguard,  on  March  25,  1833,  and  named  after 
Admiral  Fleeming,  one  of  his  father's  protectors  in 
the  navy. 

His  childhood  was  vagrant  like  his  life.  Once  he 
was  left  in  the  care  of  his  grandmother  Jackson,  while 
Mrs.  Jenkin  sailed  in  her  husband's  ship  and  stayed  a 
year  at  the  Havannah.  The  tragic  woman  was  besides 
from  time  to  time  a  member  of  the  family ;  she  was  in 
distress  of  mind  and  reduced  in  fortune  by  the  miscon- 
duct of  her  sons;  her  destitution  and  solitude  made  it  a 
recurring  duty  to  receive  her,  her  violence  continually 
enforced  fresh  separations.  In  her  passion  of  a  disap- 
pointed mother,  she  was  a  fit  object  of  pity ;  but  her 
grandson,  who  heard  her  load  his  own  mother  with 
cruel  insults  and  reproaches,  conceived  for  her  an  in- 
dignant and  impatient  hatred,  for  which  he  blamed  him- 
self in  later  life.  It  is  strange  from  this  point  of  view  to 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

see  his  childish  letters  to  Mrs.  Jackson ;  and  to  think 
that  a  man,  distinguished  above  all  by  stubborn  truth- 
fulness, should  have  been  brought  up  to  such  dissimu- 
lation. But  this  is  of  course  unavoidable  in  life;  it  did 
no  harm  to  Jenkin ;  and  whether  he  got  harm  or  benefit 
from  a  so  early  acquaintance  with  violent  and  hateful 
scenes,  is  more  than  I  can  guess.  The  experience,  at 
least,  was  formative;  and  in  judging  his  character  it 
should  not  be  forgotten.  But  Mrs.  Jackson  was  not  the 
only  stranger  in  their  gates;  the  Captain's  sister,  Aunt 
Anna  Jenkin,  lived  with  them  until  her  death ;  she  had 
all  the  Jenkin  beauty  of  countenance,  though  she  was 
unhappily  deformed  in  body  and  of  frail  health;  and  she 
even  excelled  her  gentle  and  ineffectual  family  in  all 
amiable  qualities.  So  that  each  of  the  two  races  from 
which  Fleeming  sprang,  had  an  outpost  by  his  very 
cradle;  the  one  he  instinctively  loved,  the  other  hated; 
and  the  life-long  war  in  his  members  had  begun  thus 
early  by  a  victory  for  what  was  best. 

We  can  trace  the  family  from  one  country  place  to 
another  in  the  South  of  Scotland;  where  the  child 
learned  his  taste  for  sport  by  riding  home  the  pony  from 
the  moors.  Before  he  was  nine  he  could  write  such  a 
passage  as  this  about  a  Hallowe'en  observance:  "I 
pulled  a  middling-sized  cabbage-runt  with  a  pretty  sum 
of  gold  about  it.  No  witches  would  run  after  me  when 
I  was  sowing  my  hempseed  this  year;  my  nuts  blazed 
away  together  very  comfortably  to  the  end  of  their  lives, 
and  when  mamma  put  hers  in  which  were  meant  for 
herself  and  papa  they  blazed  away  in  the  like  manner." 
Before  he  was  ten  he  could  write,  with  a  really  irritat- 
ing precocity,  that  he  had  been  "  making  some  pictures 

25 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

from  a  book  called  "Les  Francois  peints  par  eux- 
memes."  ...  It  is  full  of  pictures  of  all  classes,  with  a 
description  of  each  in  French.  The  pictures  are  a  little 
caricatured,  but  not  much."  Doubtless  this  was  only 
an  echo  from  his  mother,  but  it  shows  the  atmosphere 
in  which  he  breathed.  It  must  have  been  a  good 
change  for  this  art  critic  to  be  the  playmate  of  Mary 
Macdonald,  their  gardener's  daughter  at  Barjarg,  and  to 
sup  with  her  family  on  potatoes  and  milk;  and  Fleem- 
ing  himself  attached  some  value  to  this  early  and  friend- 
ly experience  of  another  class. 

His  education,  in  the  formal  sense,  began  at  Jedburgh. 
Thence  he  went  to  the  Edinburgh  Academy,  where  he 
was  the  classmate  of  Tait  and  Clerk  Maxwell,  bore 
away  many  prizes,  and  was  once  unjustly  flogged  by 
Rector  Williams.  He  used  to  insist  that  all  his  bad 
schoolfellows  had  died  early,  a  belief  amusingly  char- 
acteristic of  the  man's  consistent  optimism.  In  1846 
the  mother  and  son  proceeded  to  Frankfort-on-the- 
Main,  where  they  were  soon  joined  by  the  father,  now 
reduced  to  inaction  and  to  play  something  like  third 
fiddle  in  his  narrow  household.  The  emancipation  of 
the  slaves  had  deprived  them  of  their  last  resource  be- 
yond the  half-pay  of  a  captain ;  and  life  abroad  was  not 
only  desirable  for  the  sake  of  Fleeming's  education,  it 
was  almost  enforced  by  reasons  of  economy.  But  it 
was,  no  doubt,  somewhat  hard  upon  the  captain.  Cer- 
tainly that  perennial  boy  found  a  companion  in  his  son; 
they  were  both  active  and  eager,  both  willing  to  be 
amused,  both  young,  if  not  in  years,  then  in  character. 
They  went  out  together  on  excursions  and  sketched  old 
castles,  sitting  side  by  side ;  they  had  an  angry  rivalry 

36 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEM1NG  JENKIN 

in  walking,  doubtless  equally  sincere  upon  both  sides ; 
and  indeed  we  may  say  that  Fleeming  was  exception- 
ally favoured,  and  that  no  boy  had  ever  a  companion 
more  innocent,  engaging,  gay,  and  airy.  But  although 
in  this  case  it  would  be  easy  to  exaggerate  its  import, 
yet,  in  the  Jenkin  family  also,  the  tragedy  of  the  gener- 
ations was  proceeding,  and  the  child  was  growing  out 
of  his  father's  knowledge.  His  artistic  aptitude  was 
of  a  different  order.  Already  he  had  his  quick  sight  of 
many  sides  of  life ;  he  already  overflowed  with  distinc- 
tions and  generalizations,  contrasting  the  dramatic  art 
and  national  character  of  England,  Germany,  Italy,  and 
France.  If  he  were  dull,  he  would  write  stories  and 
poems.  "  I  have  written,"  he  says  at  thirteen,  "a  very 
long  story  in  heroic  measure,  300  lines,  and  another 
Scotch  story  and  innumerable  bits  of  poetry  "  ;  and  at 
the  same  age  he  had  not  only  a  keen  feeling  for  scenery, 
but  could  do  something  with  his  pen  to  call  it  up.  I 
feel  I  do  always  less  than  justice  to  the  delightful  mem- 
ory of  Captain  Jenkin;  but  with  a  lad  of  this  character, 
cutting  the  teeth  of  his  intelligence,  he  was  sure  to  fall 
into  the  background. 

The  family  removed  in  1847  to  Paris,  where  Fleem- 
ing was  put  to  school  under  one  Deluc.  There  he 
learned  French,  and  (if  the  captain  is  right)  first  began  to 
show  a  taste  for  mathematics.  But  a  far  more  impor- 
tant teacher  than  Deluc  was  at  hand;  the  year  1848,  so 
momentous  for  Europe,  was  momentous  also  for  Fleem- 
ing's  character.  The  family  politics  were  Liberal ;  Mrs. 
Jenkin,  generous  before  all  things,  was  sure  to  be  upon 
the  side  of  exiles;  and  in  the  house  of  a  Paris  friend  of 
hers,  Mrs.  Turner  —  already  known  to  fame  as  Shelley's 

37 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Cornelia  de  Boinville — Fleeming  saw  and  heard  such 
men  as  Manin,  Gioberti,  and  the  Ruffinis.  He  was  thus 
prepared  to  sympathize  with  revolution;  and  when  the 
hour  came,  and  he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  stirring 
and  influential  events,  the  lad's  whole  character  was 
moved.  He  corresponded  at  that  time  with  a  young 
Edinburgh  friend,  one  Frank  Scott;  and  lam  here  going 
to  draw  somewhat  largely  on  this  boyish  correspond- 
ence. It  gives  us  at  once  a  picture  of  the  Revolution 
and  a  portrait  of  Jenkin  at  fifteen;  not  so  different  (his 
friends  will  think)  from  the  Jenkin  of  the  end  —  boyish, 
simple,  opinionated,  delighting  in  action,  delighting  be- 
fore all  things  in  any  generous  sentiment. 

"February^,  1848. 

"When  at  7  o'clock  to-day  I  went  out,  I  met  a  large 
band  going  round  the  streets,  calling  on  the  inhabitants 
to  illuminate  their  houses,  and  bearing  torches.  This 
was  all  very  good  fun,  and  everybody  was  delighted ; 
but  as  they  stopped  rather  long  and  were  rather  turbu- 
lent in  the  Place  de  la  Madeleine,  near  where  we  live  " 
[in  the  Rue  Caumartin]  "a  squadron  of  dragoons  came 
up,  formed,  and  charged  at  a  hand-gallop.  This  was 
a  very  pretty  sight;  the  crowd  was  not  too  thick,  so 
they  easily  got  away ;  and  the  dragoons  only  gave  blows 
with  the  back  of  the  sword,  which  hurt  but  did  not 
wound.  I  was  as  close  to  them  as  I  am  now  to  the 
other  side  of  the  table;  it  was  rather  impressive,  how- 
ever. At  the  second  charge  they  rode  on  the  pave- 
ment and  knocked  the  torches  out  of  the  fellows'  hands; 
rather  a  shame,  too  —  would  n't  be  stood  in  Eng- 
land. .  .  . 

* 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

[At]  "  ten  minutes  to  ten  ...  I  went  a  long  way 
along  the  Boulevards,  passing  by  the  office  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  where  Guizot  lives,  and  where  to-night  there 
were  about  a  thousand  troops  protecting  him  from  the 
fury  of  the  populace.  After  this  was  passed,  the  num- 
ber of  the  people  thickened,  till  about  half  a  mile  further 
on,  I  met  a  troop  of  vagabonds,  the  wildest  vagabonds 
in  the  world  —  Paris  vagabonds,  well  armed,  having 
probably  broken  into  gunsmiths'  shops  and  taken  the 
guns  and  swords.  They  were  about  a  hundred.  These 
were  followed  by  about  a  thousand  (I  am  rather  dimin- 
ishing than  exaggerating  numbers  all  through),  indif- 
ferently armed  with  rusty  sabres,  sticks,  etc.  An  un- 
countable troop  of  gentlemen,  workmen,  shopkeepers' 
wives  (Paris  women  dare  anything),  ladies'  maids, 
common  women  —  in  fact,  a  crowd  of  all  classes, 
though  by  far  the  greater  number  were  of  the  better 
dressed  class  —  followed.  Indeed,  it  was  a  splendid 
sight:  the  mob  in  front  chanting  the  'Marseillaise,' 
the  national  war  hymn,  grave  and  powerful,  sweetened 
by  the  night  air  —  though  night  in  these  splendid  streets 
was  turned  into  day,  every  window  was  filled  with 
lamps,  dim  torches  were  tossing  in  the  crowd  ...  for 
Guizot  has  late  this  night  given  in  his  resignation,  and 
this  was  an  improvised  illumination. 

"  I  and  my  father  had  turned  with  the  crowd,  and 
were  close  behind  the  second  troop  of  vagabonds.  Joy 
was  on  every  face.  I  remarked  to  papa  that  '  I  would 
not  have  missed  the  scene  for  anything,  I  might  never 
see  such  a  splendid  one,'  when  plong  went  one  shot — 
every  face  went  pale  —  r-r-r-r-r  went  the  whole  de- 
tachment, [andj  the  whole  crowd  of  gentlemen  and 

29 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

ladies  turned  and  cut.  Such  a  scene!  —  ladies,  gentle- 
men, and  vagabonds  went  sprawling  in  the  mud,  not 
shot  but  tripped  up;  and  those  that  went  down  could 
not  rise,  they  were  trampled  over.  ...  I  ran  a  short 
time  straight  on  and  did  not  fall,  then  turned  down  a 
side  street,  ran  fifty  yards  and  felt  tolerably  safe ;  looked 
for  papa,  did  not  see  him ;  so  walked  on  quickly,  giv- 
ing the  news  as  I  went."  [It  appears,  from  another  let- 
ter, the  boy  was  the  first  to  carry  word  of  the  firing  to 
the  Rue  St.  Honore;  and  that  his  news  wherever  he 
brought  it  was  received  with  hurrahs.  It  was  an  odd 
entrance  upon  life  for  a  little  English  lad,  thus  to  play  the 
part  of  rumour  in  such  a  crisis  of  the  history  of  France.] 

"  But  now  a  new  fear  came  over  me.  I  had  little 
doubt  but  my  papa  was  safe,  but  my  fear  was  that  he 
should  arrive  at  home  before  me  and  tell  the  story;  in 
that  case  I  knew  my  mamma  would  go  half  mad  with 
fright,  so  on  I  went  as  quick  as  possible.  I  heard  no 
more  discharges.  When  I  got  half  way  home,  I  found 
my  way  blocked  up  by  troops.  That  way  or  the 
Boulevards  I  must  pass.  In  the  Boulevards  they  were 
fighting,  and  I  was  afraid  all  other  passages  might  be 
blocked  up  ...  and  I  should  have  to  sleep  in  a  hotel 
in  that  case,  and  then  my  mamma  —  however,  after  a 
long  dttour,  I  found  a  passage  and  ran  home,  and  in  our 
street  joined  papa. 

"...  I'll  tell  you  to-morrow  the  other  facts  gath- 
ered from  newspapers  and  papa.  .  .  .  To-night  I  have 
given  you  what  I  have  seen  with  my  own  eyes  an  hour 
ago,  and  began  trembling  with  excitement  and  fear.  If 
I  have  been  too  long  on  this  one  subject,  it  is  because 
it  is  yet  before  my  eyes." 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

"  Monday, 

"  It  was  that  fire  raised  the  people.  There  was 
fighting  all  through  the  night  in  the  Rue  Notre  Dame 
de  Lorette  on  the  Boulevards  where  they  had  been  shot 
at,  and  at  the  Porte  St.  Denis.  At  ten  o'clock,  they  re- 
signed the  house  of  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs 
(where  the  disastrous  volley  was  fired)  to  the  people, 
who  immediately  took  possession  of  it.  I  went  to 
school,  but  [was]  hardly  there  when  the  row  in  that 
quarter  commenced.  Barricades  began  to  be  fixed. 
Everyone  was  very  grave  now;  the  externes  went 
away,  but  no  one  came  to  fetch  me,  so  I  had  to  stay. 
No  lessons  could  go  on.  A  troop  of  armed  men  took 
possession  of  the  barricades,  so  it  was  supposed  I  should 
have  to  sleep  there.  The  revolters  came  and  asked  for 
arms,  but  Deluc  (head-master)  is  a  National  Guard,  and 
he  said  he  had  only  his  own  and  he  wanted  them ;  but 
he  said  he  would  not  fire  on  them.  Then  they  asked 
for  wine,  which  he  gave  them.  They  took  good  care 
not  to  get  drunk,  knowing  they  would  not  be  able  to 
fight.  They  were  very  polite  and  behaved  extremely 
well. 

"About  12  o'clock  a  servant  came  for  a  boy  who 
lived  near  me,  [and]  Deluc  thought  it  best  to  send  me 
with  him.  We  heard  a  good  deal  of  firing  near,  but 
did  not  come  across  any  of  the  parties.  As  we  ap- 
proached the  railway,  the  barricades  were  no  longer 
formed  of  palings,  planks,  or  stones;  but  they  had  got 
all  the  omnibuses  as  they  passed,  sent  the  horses  and 
passengers  about  their  business,  and  turned  them  over. 
A  double  row  of  overturned  coaches  made  a  capital  bar- 
ricade, with  a  few  paving  stones. 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

"  When  I  got  home  I  found  to  my  astonishment  that 
in  our  fighting  quarter  it  was  much  quieter.  Mamma 
had  just  been  out  seeing  the  troops  in  the  Place  de  la 
Concorde,  when  suddenly  the  Municipal  Guard,  now 
fairly  exasperated,  prevented  the  National  Guard  from 
proceeding,  and  fired  at  them;  the  National  Guard  had 
come  with  their  muskets  not  loaded,  but  at  length  re- 
turned the  fire.  Mamma  saw  the  National  Guard  fire. 
The  Municipal  Guard  were  round  the  corner.  She  was 
delighted,  for  she  saw  no  person  killed,  though  many 
of  the  Municipals  were.  .  .  . 

"I  immediately  went  out  with  my  papa  (mamma 
had  just  come  back  with  him)  and  went  to  the  Place 
de  la  Concorde.  There  was  an  enormous  quantity  of 
troops  in  the  Place.  Suddenly  the  gates  of  the  gardens 
of  the  Tuileries  opened ;  we  rushed  forward,  out  gal- 
loped an  enormous  number  of  cuirassiers,  in  the  middle 
of  which  were  a  couple  of  low  carriages,  said  first  to 
contain  the  Count  de  Paris  and  the  Duchess  of  Orleans, 
but  afterwards  they  said  it  was  the  King  and  Queen ; 
and  then  I  heard  he  had  abdicated.  I  returned  and 
gave  the  news. 

"Went  out  again  up  the  Boulevards.  The  house  of 
the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  was  filled  with  people 
and  '  Hotel  du  Peuple '  written  on  it ;  the  Boulevards 
were  barricaded  with  fine  old  trees  that  were  cut  down 
and  stretched  all  across  the  road.  We  went  through  a 
great  many  little  streets,  all  strongly  barricaded,  and 
sentinels  of  the  people  at  the  principal  of  them.  The 
streets  were  very  unquiet,  filled  with  armed  men  and 
women,  for  the  troops  had  followed  the  ex-King  to 
Neuilly  and  left  Paris  in  the  power  of  the  people.  We 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

met  the  captain  of  the  Third  Legion  of  the  National 
Guard  (who  had  principally  protected  the  people),  badly 
wounded  by  a  Municipal  Guard,  stretched  on  a  litter. 
He  was  in  possession  of  his  senses.  He  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  troop  of  men  crying  '  Our  brave  captain 
—  we  have  him  yet — he's  not  dead!  Vive  la  Rt- 
forme!'  This  cry  was  responded  to  by  all,  and  every 
one  saluted  him  as  he  passed.  I  do  not  know  if  he  was 
mortally  wounded.  That  Third  Legion  has  behaved 
splendidly. 

"I  then  returned,  and  shortly  afterwards  went  out 
again  to  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries.  They  were  given 
up  to  the  people  and  the  palace  was  being  sacked. 
The  people  were  firing  blank  cartridges  to  testify  their 
joy,  and  they  had  a  cannon  on  the  top  of  the  palace. 
It  was  a  sight  to  see  a  palace  sacked  and  armed  vaga- 
bonds firing  out  of  the  windows,  and  throwing  shirts, 
papers,  and  dresses  of  all  kinds  out  of  the  windows. 
They  are  not  rogues,  these  French ;  they  are  not  steal- 
ing, burning,  or  doing  much  harm.  In  the  Tuileries  they 
have  dressed  up  some  of  the  statues,  broken  some,  and 
stolen  nothing  but  queer  dresses.  I  say,  Frank,  you 
must  not  hate  the  French;  hate  the  Germans  if  you 
like.  The  French  laugh  at  us  a  little,  and  call  out  God- 
dam in  the  streets ;  but  to-day,  in  civil  war,  when  they 
might  have  put  a  bullet  through  our  heads,  I  never  was 
insulted  once. 

"  At  present  we  have  a  provisional  Government,  con- 
sisting of  Odion  [sic]  Barrot,  Lamartine,  Marast,  and 
some  others;  among  them  a  common  workman,  but 
very  intelligent.  This  is  a  triumph  of  liberty  —  rather! 

"Now  then,  Frank,  what  do  you  think  of  it  ?  I  in  a 
33 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

revolution  and  out  all  day.  Just  think,  what  fun !  So 
it  was  at  first,  till  I  was  fired  at  yesterday;  but  to-day 
I  was  not  frightened,  but  it  turned  me  sick  at  heart,  I 
don't  know  why.  There  has  been  no  great  bloodshed, 
[though]  I  certainly  have  seen  men's  blood  several 
times.  But  there's  something  shocking  to  see  a  whole 
armed  populace,  though  not  furious,  for  not  one  single 
shop  has  been  broken  open,  except  the  gunsmiths'  shops, 
and  most  of  the  arms  will  probably  be  taken  back  again. 
For  the  French  have  no  cupidity  in  their  nature;  they 
don't  like  to  steal  —  it  is  not  in  their  nature.  I  shall 
send  this  letter  in  a  day  or  two,  when  I  am  sure  the 
post  will  go  again.  I  know  I  have  been  a  long  time 
writing,  but  I  hope  you  will  find  the  matter  of  this  let- 
ter interesting,  as  coming  from  a  person  resident  on  the 
spot;  though  probably  you  don't  take  much  interest  in 
the  French,  but  I  can  think,  write,  and  speak  on  no 
other  subject. 

"Feb.  25. 

"There  is  no  more  fighting,  the  people  have  con- 
quered; but  the  barricades  are  still  kept  up,  and  the 
people  are  in  arms,  more  than  ever  fearing  some  new 
act  of  treachery  on  the  part  of  the  ex-King.  The  fight 
where  I  was  was  the  principal  cause  of  the  Revolution. 
I  was  in  little  danger  from  the  shot,  for  there  was  an 
immense  crowd  in  front  of  me,  though  quite  within 
gun-shot.  [By  another  letter,  a  hundred  yards  from  the 
troops.]  I  wished  I  had  stopped  there. 

"The  Paris  streets  are  filled  with  the  most  extraor- 
dinary crowds  of  men,  women  and  children,  ladies  and 
gentlemen.  Every  person  joyful.  The  bands  of  armed 
men  are  perfectly  polite.  Mamma  and  aunt  to-day 

34 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

walked  through  armed  crowds  alone,  that  were  firing 
blank  cartridges  in  all  directions.  Every  person  made 
way  with  the  greatest  politeness,  and  one  common 
man  with  a  blouse,  coming  by  accident  against  her,  im- 
mediately stopped  to  beg  her  pardon  in  the  politest 
manner.  There  are  few  drunken  men.  The  Tuileries 
is  still  being  run  over  by  the  people ;  they  only  broke 
two  things,  a  bust  of  Louis  Philippe  and  one  of  Marshal 
Bugeaud,  who  fired  on  the  people.  .  .  . 

"  I  have  been  out  all  day  again  to-day,  and  precious 
tired  I  am.  The  Republican  party  seem  the  strongest, 
and  are  going  about  with  red  ribbons  in  their  button- 
holes. .  .  . 

"  The  title  of  '  Mister '  is  abandoned ;  they  say  nothing 
but  '  Citizen,'  and  the  people  are  shaking  hands  amaz- 
ingly. They  have  got  to  the  top  of  the  public  monu- 
ments, and,  mingling  with  bronze  or  stone  statues,  five 
or  six  make  a  sort  of  tableau  -vi-vant,  the  top  man  hold- 
ing up  the  red  flag  of  the  Republic ;  and  right  well  they 
do  it,  and  very  picturesque  they  look.  I  think  I  shall 
put  this  letter  in  the  post  to-morrow,  as  we  got  a  letter 
to-night. 

(On  Envelope.) 

"M.  Lamartine  has  now  by  his  eloquence  conquered 
the  whole  armed  crowd  of  citizens  threatening  to  kill 
him  if  he  did  not  immediately  proclaim  the  Republic 
and  red  flag.  He  said  he  could  not  yield  to  the  citizens 
of  Paris  alone,  that  the  whole  country  must  be  con- 
sulted, that  he  chose  the  tricolour,  for  it  had  followed 
and  accompanied  the  triumphs  of  France  all  over  the 
world,  and  that  the  red  flag  had  only  been  dipped  in 
the  blood  of  the  citizens.  For  sixty  hours  he  has  been 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

quieting  the  people:  he  is  at  the  head  of  everything. 
Don't  be  prejudiced,  Frank,  by  what  you  see  in  the  pa- 
pers. The  French  have  acted  nobly,  splendidly;  there 
has  been  no  brutality,  plundering,  or  stealing.  ...  I 
did  not  like  the  French  before ;  but  in  this  respect  they 
are  the  finest  people  in  the  world.  I  am  so  glad  to  have 
been  here." 

And  there  one  could  wish  to  stop  with  this  apotheosis 
of  liberty  and  order  read  with  the  generous  enthusiasm 
of  a  boy;  but  as  the  reader  knows,  it  was  but  the  first 
act  of  the  piece.  The  letters,  vivid  as  they  are,  writ- 
ten as  they  were  by  a  hand  trembling  with  fear  and  ex- 
citement, yet  do  injustice,  in  their  boyishness  of  tone, 
to  the  profound  effect  produced.  At  the  sound  of  these 
songs  and  shot  of  cannon,  the  boy's  mind  awoke.  He 
dated  his  own  appreciation  of  the  art  of  acting  from  the 
day  when  he  saw  and  heard  Rachel  recite  the  "  Marseil- 
laise "  at  the  Francais,  the  tricolour  in  her  arms.  What  is 
still  more  strange,  he  had  been  up  to  then  invincibly  indif- 
ferent to  music,  insomuch  that  he  could  not  distinguish 
"God  save  the  Queen"  from  "  Bonnie  Dundee";  and 
now,  to  the  chanting  of  the  mob,  he  amazed  his  family 
by  learning  and  singing  "  Mourir  pour  la  Patrie."  But 
the  letters,  though  they  prepare  the  mind  for  no  such 
revolution  in  the  boy's  tastes  and  feelings,  are  yet  full 
of  entertaining  traits.  Let  the  reader  note  Fleeming's 
eagerness  to  influence  his  friend  Frank,  an  incipient 
Tory  (no  less)  as  further  history  displayed;  his  uncon- 
scious indifference  to  his  father  and  devotion  to  his 
mother,  betrayed  in  so  many  significant  expressions  and 
omissions;  the  sense  of  dignity  of  this  diminutive  "  per- 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

son  resident  on  the  spot,"  who  was  so  happy  as  to  es- 
cape insult;  and  the  strange  picture  of  the  household  — 
father,  mother,  son,  and  even  poor  Aunt  Anna  —  all 
day  in  the  streets  in  the  thick  of  this  rough  business, 
and  the  boy  packed  off  alone  to  school  in  a  distant  quar- 
ter on  the  very  morrow  of  the  massacre. 

They  had  all  the  gift  of  enjoying  life's  texture  as  it 
comes;  they  were  all  born  optimists.  The  name  of 
liberty  was  honoured  in  that  family,  its  spirit  also,  but 
within  stringent  limits;  and  some  of  the  foreign  friends 
of  Mrs.  Jenkin  were,  as  I  have  said,  men  distinguished 
on  the  Liberal  side.  Like  Wordsworth,  they  beheld  . 

France  standing  on  the  top  of  golden  hours 
And  human  nature  seeming  born  again. 

At  once,  by  temper  and  belief,  they  were  formed  to  find 
their  element  in  such  a  decent  and  whiggish  convul- 
sion, spectacular  in  its  course,  moderate  in  its  purpose. 
For  them, 

Bliss  was  it  in  that  dawn  to  be  alive, 
But  to  be  young  was  very  heaven. 

And  I  cannot  but  smile  when  I  think  that  (again  like 
Wordsworth)  they  should  have  so  specially  disliked  the 
consequence. 

It  came  upon  them  by  surprise.  Liberal  friends  of 
the  precise  right  shade  of  colour  had  assured  them,  in 
Mrs.  Turner's  drawing-room,  that  all  was  for  the  best; 
and  they  rose  on  January  23  without  fear.  About  the 
middle  of  the  day  they  heard  the  sound  of  musketry, 
and  the  next  morning  they  were  awakened  by  the  can- 
nonade. The  French,  who  had  behaved  so ' '  splendidly, " 

37 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

pausing,  at  the  voice  of  Lamartine,  just  where  judicious 
Liberals  could  have  desired  —  the  French,  who  had  "  no 
cupidity  in  their  nature,"  were  now  about  to  play  a  va- 
riation on  the  theme  rebellion.  The  Jenkins  took  refuge 
in  the  house  of  Mrs.  Turner,  the  house  of  the  false  pro- 
phets, "Anna  going  with  Mrs.  Turner,  that  she  might 
be  prevented  speaking  English,  Fleeming,  Miss  H.  and 
I  (it  is  the  mother  who  writes)  walking  together.  As 
we  reached  the  Rue  de  Clichy,  the  report  of  the  cannon 
sounded  close  to  our  ears  and  made  our  hearts  sick,  I 
assure  you.  The  fighting  was  at  the  barrier  Roche- 
chouart,  a  few  streets  off.  All  Saturday  and  Sunday 
we  were  a  prey  to  great  alarm,  there  came  so  many  re- 
ports that  the  insurgents  were  getting  the  upper  hand. 
One  could  tell  the  state  of  affairs  from  the  extreme  quiet 
or  the  sudden  hum  in  the  street.  When  the  news  was 
bad,  all  the  houses  closed  and  the  people  disappeared; 
when  better,  the  doors  half  opened  and  you  heard  the 
sound  of  men  again.  From  the  upper  windows  we 
could  see  each  discharge  from  the  Bastille — I  mean  the 
smoke  rising  —  and  also  the  flames  and  smoke  from  the 
Boulevard  la  Chapelle.  We  were  four  ladies,  and  only 
Fleeming  by  way  of  a  man,  and  difficulty  enough  we 
had  to  keep  him  from  joining  the  National  Guards — his 
pride  and  spirit  were  both  fired.  You  cannot  picture  to 
yourself  the  multitudes  of  soldiers,  guards,  and  armed 
men  of  all  sorts  we  watched  —  not  close  to  the  window, 
however,  for  such  havoc  had  been  made  among  them 
by  the  firing  from  the  windows,  that  as  the  battalions 
marched  by,  they  cried,  "  Fermez  vos  fenStres! "  and  it 
was  very  painful  to  watch  their  looks  of  anxiety  and 
suspicion  as  they  marched  by." 

38 


MEMOIR   OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

"The  Revolution,"  writes  Fleeming  to  Frank  Scott, 
"  was  quite  delightful:  getting  popped  at  and  run  at  by 
horses,  and  giving  sous  for  the  wounded  into  little  boxes 
guarded  by  the  raggedest,  picturesquest,  delightfullest, 
sentinels;  but  the  insurrection!  ugh,  I  shudder  to  think 
at  [sic]  it."  He  found  it  "  not  a  bit  of  fun  sitting  boxed 
up  in  the  house  four  days  almost  ....  I  was  the  only 
gentleman  to  four  ladies,  and  didn't  they  keep  me  in 
order!  I  did  not  dare  to  show  my  face  at  a  window, 
for  fear  of  catching  a  stray  ball  or  being  forced  to  enter 
the  National  Guard;  [for]  they  would  have  it  I  was  a 
man  full-grown,  French,  and  every  way  fit  to  fight. 
And  my  mamma  was  as  bad  as  any  of  them;  she  that 
told  me  1  was  a  coward  last  time  if  I  stayed  in  the  house 
a  quarter  of  an  hour!  But  I  drew,  examined  the  pistols, 
of  which  I  found  lots  with  caps,  powder,  and  ball, 
while  sometimes  murderous  intentions  of  killing  a  dozen 
insurgents  and  dying  violently  overpowered  by  num- 
bers. ..."  We  may  drop  this  sentence  here:  under 
the  conduct  of  its  boyish  writer,  it  was  to  reach  no  le- 
gitimate end. 

Four  days  of  such  a  discipline  had  cured  the  family 
of  Paris;  the  same  year  Fleeming  was  to  write,  in  an- 
swer apparently  to  a  question  of  Frank  Scott's,  "I  could 
find  no  national  game  in  France  but  revolutions";  and 
the  witticism  was  justified  in  their  experience.  On  the 
first  possible  day,  they  applied  for  passports,  and  were 
advised  to  take  the  road  to  Geneva.  It  appears  it  was 
scarce  safe  to  leave  Paris  for  England.  Charles  Reade, 
with  keen  dramatic  gusto,  had  just  smuggled  himself 
out  of  that  city  in  the  bottom  of  a  cab.  English  gold 
had  been  found  on  the  insurgents,  the  name  of  England 

39 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

was  in  evil  odour;  and  it  was  thus  —  for  strategic  rea- 
sons, so  to  speak  —  that  Fleeming  found  himself  on  the 
way  to  that  Italy  where  he  was  to  complete  his  educa- 
tion, and  for  which  he  cherished  to  the  end  a  special 
kindness. 

It  was  in  Genoa  they  settled ;  partly  for  the  sake  of 
the  captain,  who  might  there  find  naval  comrades; 
partly  because  of  the  Ruffinis,  who  had  been  friends  of 
Mrs.  Jenkin  in  their  time  of  exile  and  were  now  consid- 
erable men  at  home;  partly,  in  fine,  with  hopes  that 
Fleeming  might  attend  the  University;  in  preparation 
for  which  he  was  put  at  once  to  school.  It  was  the 
year  of  Novara;  Mazzini  was  in  Rome;  the  dry  bones 
of  Italy  were  moving;  and  for  people  of  alert  and  lib- 
eral sympathies  the  time  was  inspiriting.  What  with 
exiles  turned  Ministers  of  State,  universities  thrown 
open  to  Protestants,  Fleeming  himself  the  first  Protest- 
ant student  in  Genoa,  and  thus,  as  his  mother  writes, 
"a  living  instance  of  the  progress  of  liberal  ideas"  —  it 
was  little  wonder  if  the  enthusiastic  young  woman  and 
the  clever  boy  were  heart  and  soul  upon  the  side  of 
Italy.  It  should  not  be  forgotten  that  they  were  both 
on  their  first  visit  to  that  country;  the  mother  still 
"child  enough"  to  be  delighted  when  she  saw  "real 
monks  " ;  and  both  mother  and  son  thrilling  with  the 
first  sight  of  snowy  Alps,  the  blue  Mediterranean,  and 
the  crowded  port  and  the  palaces  of  Genoa.  Nor  was 
their  zeal  without  knowledge.  Ruffini,  deputy  for 
Genoa  and  soon  to  be  head  of  the  University,  was  at 
their  side;  and  by  means  of  him  the  family  appear  to 
have  had  access  to  much  Italian  society.  To  the  end, 
Fleeming  professed  his  admiration  of  the  Piedmontese 

40 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

and  his  unalterable  confidence  in  the  future  of  Italy 
under  their  conduct;  for  Victor  Emanuel,  Cavour,  the 
first  La  Marmora  and  Garibaldi,  he  had  varying  degrees 
of  sympathy  and  praise:  perhaps  highest  for  the  King, 
whose  good  sense  and  temper  filled  him  with  respect 
—  perhaps  least  for  Garibaldi,  whom  he  loved  but  yet 
mistrusted. 

But  this  is  to  look  forward:  these  were  the  days  not 
of  Victor  Emanuel  but  of  Charles  Albert;  and  it  was  on 
Charles  Albert  that  mother  and  son  had  now  fixed  their 
eyes  as  on  the  sword-bearer  of  Italy.  On  Fleeming's 
sixteenth  birthday,  they  were,  the  mother  writes,  "in 
great  anxiety  for  news  from  the  army.  You  can  have 
no  idea  what  it  is  to  live  in  a  country  where  such  a 
struggle  is  going  on.  The  interest  is  one  that  absorbs 
all  others.  We  eat,  drink,  and  sleep  to  the  noise  of 
drums  and  musketry.  You  would  enjoy  and  almost 
admire  Fleeming's  enthusiasm  and  earnestness  —  and 
courage,  I  may  say  —  for  we  are  among  the  small  min- 
ority of  English  who  side  with  the  Italians.  The  other 
day,  at  dinner  at  the  Consul's,  boy  as  he  is,  and  in  spite 
of  my  admonitions,  Fleeming  defended  the  Italian  cause, 
and  so  well  that  he  "  tripped  up  the  heels  of  his  adver- 
sary "  simply  from  being  well-informed  on  the  subject 
and  honest.  He  is  as  true  as  steel,  and  for  no  one  will 
he  bend  right  or  left.  ...  Do  not  fancy  him  a  Boba- 
dil,"  she  adds,  "he  is  only  a  very  true  candid  boy.  I 
am  so  glad  he  remains  in  all  respects  but  information  a 
great  child." 

If  this  letter  is  correctly  dated,  the  cause  was  already 
lost  and  the  King  had  already  abdicated  when  these 
lines  were  written.  No  sooner  did  the  news  reach 

4» 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Genoa,  than  there  began  "tumultuous  movements"; 
and  the  Jenkins  received  hints  it  would  be  wise  to  leave 
the  city.  But  they  had  friends  and  interests;  even  the 
captain  had  English  officers  to  keep  him  company,  for 
Lord  Hardwicke's  ship,  the  Vengeance,  lay  in  port;  and 
supposing  the  danger  to  be  real,  I  cannot  but  suspect  the 
whole  family  of  a  divided  purpose,  prudence  being  pos- 
sibly weaker  than  curiosity.  Stay,  at  least,  they  did, 
and  thus  rounded  their  experience  of  the  revolutionary 
year.  On  Sunday,  April  I,  Fleeming  and  the  captain 
went  for  a  ramble  beyond  the  walls,  leaving  Aunt  Anna 
and  Mrs.  Jenkin  to  walk  on  the  bastions  with  some 
friends.  On  the  way  back,  this  party  turned  aside  to 
rest  in  the  Church  of  the  Madonna  delle  Grazie.  "  We 
had  remarked,"  writes  Mrs.  Jenkin,  "  the  entire  absence 
of  sentinels  on  the  ramparts,  and  how  the  cannons  were 
left  in  solitary  state;  and  I  had  just  remarked  "How 
quiet  everything  is!"  when  suddenly  we  heard  the 
drums  begin  to  beat  and  distant  shouts.  Accustomed 
as  we  are  to  revolutions,  we  never  thought  of  being 
frightened."  For  all  that,  they  resumed  their  return 
home.  On  the  way  they  saw  men  running  and  vocif- 
erating, but  nothing  to  indicate  a  general  disturbance, 
until,  near  the  Duke's  palace,  they  came  upon  and 
passed  a  shouting  mob  dragging  along  with  it  three 
cannons.  It  had  scarcely  passed  before  they  heard  "a 
rushing  sound  " ;  one  of  the  gentlemen  thrust  back  the 
party  of  ladies  under  a  shed,  and  the  mob  passed  again. 
A  fine- looking  young  man  was  in  their  hands;  and  Mrs. 
Jenkin  saw  him  with  his  mouth  open  as  if  he  sought 
to  speak,  saw  him  tossed  from  one  to  another  like  a 
ball,  and  then  saw  him  no  more.  "  He  was  dead  a  few 

4* 


MEMOIR  OF    FLEEMING  JENKIN 

instants  after,  but  the  crowd  hid  that  terror  from  us. 
My  knees  shook  under  me  and  my  sight  left  me."  With 
this  street  tragedy,  the  curtain  rose  upon  their  second 
revolution. 

The  attack  on  Spirito  Santo,  and  the  capitulation  and 
departure  of  the  troops  speedily  followed.  Genoa  was 
in  the  hands  of  the  Republicans,  and  now  came  a  time 
when  the  English  residents  were  in  a  position  to  pay 
some  return  for  hospitality  received.  Nor  were  they 
backward.  Our  Consul  (the  same  who  had  the  benefit 
of  correction  from  Fleeming)  carried  the  Intendente  on 
board  the  Vengeance,  escorting  him  through  the  streets, 
getting  along  with  him  on  board  a  shore  boat,  and 
when  the  insurgents  levelled  their  muskets,  standing  up 
and  naming  himself,  "Console  Inglese."  A  friend  of 
the  Jenkins',  Captain  Glynne,  had  a  more  painful,  if  a 
less  dramatic  part.  One  Colonel  Nosozzo  had  been 
killed  (I  read)  while  trying  to  prevent  his  own  artillery 
from  firing  on  the  mob;  but  in  that  hell's  cauldron  of  a 
distracted  city,  there  were  no  distinctions  made,  and 
the  colonel's  widow  was  hunted  for  her  life.  In  her 
grief  and  peril,  the  Glynnes  received  and  hid  her;  Cap- 
tain Glynne  sought  and  found  her  husband's  body 
among  the  slain,  saved  it  for  two  days,  brought  the 
widow  a  lock  of  the  dead  man's  hair;  but  at  last,  the 
mob  still  strictly  searching,  seems  to  have  abandoned 
the  body,  and  conveyed  his  guest  on  board  the  Ven- 
geance, The  Jenkins  also  had  their  refugees,  the  family 
of  an  employe  threatened  by  a  decree.  "You  should 
have  seen  me  making  a  Union  Jack  to  nail  over  our 
door,"  writes  Mrs.  Jenkin.  "  1  never  worked  so  fast  in 
my  life.  Monday  and  Tuesday,"  she  continues,  "were 

43 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

tolerably  quiet,  our  hearts  beating  fast  in  the  hope  of 
La  Marmora's  approach,  the  streets  barricaded,  and  none 
but  foreigners  and  women  allowed  to  leave  the  city." 
On  Wednesday,  La  Marmora  came  indeed,  but  in  the 
ugly  form  of  a  bombardment;  and  that  evening  the 
Jenkins  sat  without  lights  about  their  drawing-room 
window,  "watching  the  huge  red  flashes  of  the  can- 
non" from  the  Brigato  and  La  Specula  forts,  and  heark- 
ening, not  without  some  awful  pleasure,  to  the  thunder 
of  the  cannonade. 

Lord  Hardwicke  intervened  between  the  rebels  and 
La  Marmora;  and  there  followed  a  troubled  armistice, 
filled  with  the  voice  of  panic.  Now  the  Vengeance  was 
known  to  be  cleared  for  action ;  now  it  was  rumoured 
that  the  galley  slaves  were  to  be  let  loose  upon  the 
town,  and  now  that  the  troops  would  enter  it  by  storm. 
Crowds,  trusting  in  the  Union  Jack  over  the  Jenkins' 
door,  came  to  beg  them  to  receive  their  linen  and  other 
valuables;  nor  could  their  instances  be  refused;  and  in 
the  midst  of  all  this  bustle  and  alarm,  piles  of  goods 
must  be  examined  and  long  inventories  made.  At  last 
the  captain  decided  things  had  gone  too  far.  He  him- 
self apparently  remained  to  watch  over  the  linen ;  but 
at  five  o'clock  on  the  Sunday  morning,  Aunt  Anna, 
Fleeming,  and  his  mother  were  rowed  in  a  pour  of  rain 
on  board  an  English  merchantman,  to  suffer  "  nine  mor- 
tal hours  of  agonising  suspense."  With  the  end  of  that 
time,  peace  was  restored.  On  Tuesday  morning  offi- 
cers with  white  flags  appeared  on  the  bastions;  then, 
regiment  by  regiment,  the  troops  marched  in,  two  hun- 
dred men  sleeping  on  the  ground  floor  of  the  Jenkins' 
house,  thirty  thousand  in  all  entering  the  city,  but  with- 

44 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

out  disturbance,  old  La  Marmora  being  a  commander  of 
a  Roman  sternness. 

With  the;  return  of  quiet,  and  the  reopening  of  the 
universities,  we  behold  a  new  character,  Signor  Flami- 
nio:  the  professors,  it  appears,  made  no  attempt  upon 
the  Jenkin;  and  thus  readily  italianised  the  Fleeming. 
He  came  well  recommended;  for  their  friend  Ruffmi 
was  then,  or  soon  after,  raised  to  be  the  head  of  the 
University;  and  the  professors  were  very  kind  and  at- 
tentive, possibly  to  Ruffmi's  protege,  perhaps  also  to  the 
first  Protestant  student.  It  was  no  joke  for  Signor  Fla- 
minio  at  first;  certificates  had  to  be  got  from  Paris  and 
from  Rector  Williams;  the  classics  must  be  furbished 
up  at  home  that  he  might  follow  Latin  lectures;  exam- 
inations bristled  in  the  path,  the  entrance  examination 
with  Latin  and  English  essay,  and  oral  trials  (much 
softened  for  the  foreigner)  in  Horace,  Tacitus,  and  Ci- 
cero, and  the  first  University  examination  only  three 
months  later,  in  Italian  eloquence,  no  less,  and  other 
wider  subjects.  On  one  point  the  first  Protestant  stu- 
dent was  moved  to  thank  his  stars :  that  there  was  no 
Greek  required  for  the  degree.  Little  did  he  think,  as 
he  set  down  his  gratitude,  how  much,  in  later  life  and 
among  cribs  and  dictionaries,  he  was  to  lament  this  cir- 
cumstance; nor  how  much  of  that  later  life  he  was  to 
spend  acquiring,  with  infinite  toil,  a  shadow  of  what 
he  might  then  have  got  with  ease  and  fully.  But  if  his 
Genoese  education  was  in  this  particular  imperfect,  he 
was  fortunate  in  the  branches  that  more  immediately 
touched  on  his  career.  The  physical  laboratory  was  the 
best  mounted  in  Italy.  Bancalari,  the  professor  of  nat- 
ural philosophy,  was  famous  in  his  day;  by  what 

45 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEM1NG  JENKIN 

seems  even  an  odd  coincidence,  he  went  deeply  into 
electro-magnetism ;  and  it  was  principally  in  that  sub- 
ject that  Signor  Flaminio,  questioned  in  Latin  and  an- 
swering in  Italian,  passed  his  Master  of  Arts  degree  with 
first-class  honours.  That  he  had  secured  the  notice  of 
his  teachers,  one  circumstance  sufficiently  proves.  A 
philosophical  society  was  started  under  the  presidency 
of  Mamiani,  "one  of  the  examiners  and  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  Moderate  party";  and  out  of  five  promis- 
ing students  brought  forward  by  the  professors  to  at- 
tend the  sittings  and  present  essays,  Signor  Flaminio 
was  one.  I  cannot  find  that  he  ever  read  an  essay ;  and 
indeed  I  think  his  hands  were  otherwise  too  full.  He 
found  his  fellow-students  "not  such  a  bad  set  of 
chaps,"  and  preferred  the  Piedmontese  before  the  Gen- 
oese ;  but  I  suspect  he  mixed  not  very  freely  with  either. 
Not  only  were  his  days  filled  with  university  work,  but 
his  spare  hours  were  fully  dedicated  to  the  arts  under 
the  eye  of  a  beloved  task-mistress.  He  worked  hard 
and  well  in  the  art  school,  where  he  obtained  a  silver 
medal  "for  a  couple  of  legs  the  size  of  life  drawn  from 
one  of  Raphael's  cartoons."  His  holidays  were  spent 
in  sketching;  his  evenings,  when  they  were  free,  at  the 
theatre.  Here  at  the  opera  he  discovered  besides  a 
taste  for  a  new  art,  the  art  of  music;  and  it  was,  he 
wrote,  "as  if  he  had  found  out  a  heaven  on  earth." 
"  I  am  so  anxious  that  whatever  he  professes  to  know, 
he  should  really  perfectly  possess,"  his  mother  wrote, 
"that  I  spare  no  pains";  neither  to  him  nor  to  myself, 
she  might  have  added.  And  so  when  he  begged  to  be 
allowed  to  learn  the  piano,  she  started  him  with  char- 
acteristic barbarity  on  the  scales;  and  heard  in  conse- 

46 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

quence  "heart-rending  groans"  and  saw  "anguished 
claspings  of  hands  "  as  he  lost  his  way  among  their  arid 
intricacies. 

In  this  picture  of  the  lad  at  the  piano,  there  is  some- 
thing, for  the  period,  girlish.  He  was  indeed  his 
mother's  boy;  and  it  was  fortunate  his  mother  was  not 
altogether  feminine.  She  gave  her  son  a  womanly 
delicacy  in  morals,  to  a  man's  taste  —  to  his  own  taste 
in  later  life — too  finely  spun,  and  perhaps  more  elegant 
than  healthful.  She  encouraged  him  besides  in  draw- 
ing-room interests.  But  in  other  points  her  influence 
was  manlike.  Filled  with  the  spirit  of  thoroughness, 
she  taught  him  to  make  of  the  least  of  these  accom- 
plishments a  virile  task;  and  the  teaching  lasted  him 
through  life.  Immersed  as  she  was  in  the  day's  move- 
ments and  buzzed  about  by  leading  Liberals,  she  handed 
on  to  him  her  creed  in  politics:  an  enduring  kindness 
for  Italy,  and  a  loyalty,  like  that  of  many  clever  women, 
to  the  Liberal  party  with  but  small  regard  to  men  or 
measures.  This  attitude  of  mind  used  often  to  disap- 
point me  in  a  man  so  fond  of  logic;  but  I  see  now  how 
it  was  learned  from  the  bright  eyes  of  his  mother  and 
to  the  sound  of  the  cannonades  of  1848.  To  some  of 
her  defects,  besides,  she  made  him  heir.  Kind  as  was 
the  bond  that  united  her  to  her  son,  kind  and  even 
pretty,  she  was  scarce  a  woman  to  adorn  a  home;  lov- 
ing as  she  did  to  shine;  careless  as  she  was  of  domes- 
tic, studious  of  public  graces.  She  probably  rejoiced  to 
see  the  boy  grow  up  in  somewhat  of  the  image  of  her- 
self, generous,  excessive,  enthusiastic,  external;  catch- 
ing at  ideas,  brandishing  them  when  caught;  fiery  for 
the  right,  but  always  fiery ;  ready  at  fifteen  to  correct  a 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

consul,  ready  at  fifty  to  explain  to  any  artist  his  own 
art. 

The  defects  and  advantages  of  such  a  training  were 
obvious  in  Fleeming  throughout  life.  His  thorough- 
ness was  not  that  of  the  patient  scholar,  but  of  an  un- 
trained woman  with  fits  of  passionate  study;  he  had 
learned  too  much  from  dogma,  given  indeed  by  cher- 
ished lips;  and  precocious  as  he  was  in  the  use  of  the 
tools  of  the  mind,  he  was  truly  backward  in  knowledge 
of  life  and  of  himself.  Such  as  it  was  at  least,  his  home 
and  school  training  was  now  complete;  and  you  are  to 
conceive  the  lad  as  being  formed  in  a  household  of 
meagre  revenue,  among  foreign  surroundings,  and  un- 
der the  influence  of  an  imperious  drawing-room  queen; 
from  whom  he  learned  a  great  refinement  of  morals,  a 
strong  sense  of  duty,  much  forwardness  of  bearing,  all 
manner  of  studious  and  artistic  interests,  and  many 
ready-made  opinions  which  he  embraced  with  a  son's 
and  a  disciple's  loyalty. 


CHAPTER  III 
1851—1858 

Return  to  England  —  Fleeming  at  Fairbaim's  —  Experience  in  a  Strike 
—  Dr.  Bell  and  Greek  Architecture  —  The  Gaskells  —  Fleeming  at 
Greenwich  —  The  Austins — Fleeming  and  the  Austins  —  His  En- 
gagement—  Fleeming  and  Sir  W.  Thomson. 

In  1851,  the  year  of  Aunt  Anna's  death,  the  family 
left  Genoa  and  came  to  Manchester,  where  Fleeming 
was  entered  in  Fairbairn's  works  as  an  apprentice. 
From  the  palaces  and  Alps,  the  Mole,  the  blue  Mediter- 
ranean, the  humming  lanes  and  the  bright  theatres  of 
Genoa,  he  fell — and  he  was  sharply  conscious  of  the 
fall  —  to  the  dim  skies  and  the  foul  ways  of  Manchester. 
England  he  found  on  his  return  "a  horrid  place,"  and 
there  is  no  doubt  the  family  found  it  a  dear  one.  The 
story  of  the  Jenkin  finances  is  not  easy  to  follow.  The 
family,  I  am  told,  did  not  practice  frugality,  only  lamented 
that  it  should  be  needful;  and  Mrs.  Jenkin,  who  was 
always  complaining  of  "  those  dreadful  bills,"  was"  al- 
ways a  good  deal  dressed."  But  at  this  time  of  the  re- 
turn to  England,  things  must  have  gone  further.  A 
holiday  tour  of  a  fortnight,  Fleeming  feared  would  be 
beyond  what  he  could  afford,  and  he  only  projected  it 
"to  have  a  castle  in  the  air."  And  there  were  actual 
pinches.  Fresh  from  a  warmer  sun,  he  was  obliged  to 

49 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

go  without  a  greatcoat,  and  learned  on  railway  journeys 
to  supply  the  place  of  one  with  wrappings  of  old  news- 
paper. 

From  half-past  eight  till  six,  he  must  "  file  and  chip 
vigorously  in  a  moleskin  suit  and  infernally  dirty."  The 
work  was  not  new  to  him,  for  he  had  already  passed 
some  time  in  a  Genoese  shop;  and  to  Fleeming  no  work 
was  without  interest.  Whatever  a  man  can  do  or 
know,  he  longed  to  know  and  do  also.  "  I  never  learned 
anything,"  he  wrote,  "  not  even  standing  on  my  head, 
but  I  found  a  use  for  it."  In  the  spare  hours  of  his  first 
telegraph  voyage,  to  give  an  instance  of  his  greed  of 
knowledge,  he  meant  "  to  learn  the  whole  art  of  naviga- 
tion, every  rope  in  the  ship  and  how  to  handle  her  on 
any  occasion  " ;  and  once  when  he  was  shown  a  young 
lady's  holiday  collection  of  seaweeds,  he  must  cry  out, 
"  It  showed  me  my  eyes  had  been  idle."  Nor  was  his 
the  case  of  the  mere  literary  smatterer,  content  if  he  but 
learn  the  names  of  things.  In  him,  to  do  and  to  do 
well,  was  even  a  dearer  ambition  than  to  know.  Any- 
thing done  well,  any  craft,  despatch,  or  finish,  delighted 
and  inspired  him.  I  remember  him  with  a  twopenny 
Japanese  box  of  three  drawers,  so  exactly  fitted  that, 
when  one  was  driven  home,  the  others  started  from 
their  places;  the  whole  spirit  of  Japan,  he  told  me,  was 
pictured  in  that  box;  that  plain  piece  of  carpentry  was 
as  much  inspired  by  the  spirit  of  perfection  as  the  hap- 
piest drawing  or  the  finest  bronze;  and  he  who  could 
not  enjoy  it  in  ihe  one  was  not  fully  able  to  enjoy  it  in 
the  others.  Thus,  too,  he  found  in  Leonardo's  engi- 
neering and  anatomical  drawings  a  perpetual  feast;  and 
of  the  former  he  spoke  even  with  emotion.  Nothing 

50 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEM1NG  JENKIN 

indeed  annoyed  Fleeming  more  than  the  attempt  to  sep- 
arate the  fine  arts  from  the  arts  of  handicraft;  any  defi- 
nition or  theory  that  failed  to  bring  these  two  together, 
according  to  him,  had  missed  the  point;  and  the  essence 
of  the  pleasure  received  lay  in  seeing  things  well  done. 
Other  qualities  must  be  added;  he  was  the  last  to  deny 
that;  but  this,  of  perfect  craft,  was  at  the  bottom  of  all. 
And  on  the  other  hand,  a  nail  ill-driven,  a  joint  ill-fitted, 
a  tracing  clumsily  done,  anything  to  which  a  man  had 
set  his  hand  and  not  set  it  aptly,  moved  him  to  shame 
and  anger.  With  such  a  character,  he  would  feel  but 
little  drudgery  at  Fairbairn's.  There  would  be  some- 
thing daily  to  be  done,  slovenliness  to  be  avoided,  and 
a  higher  mark  of  skill  to  be  attained ;  he  would  chip  and 
file,  as  he  had  practiced  scales,  impatient  of  his  own  im- 
perfection, but  resolute  to  learn. 

And  there  was  another  spring  of  delight.  For  he 
was  now  moving  daily  among  those  strange  creations 
of  man's  brain,  to  some  so  abhorrent,  to  him  of  an  in- 
terest so  inexhaustible:  in  which  iron,  water,  and  fire 
are  made  to  serve  as  slaves,  now  with  a  tread  more 
powerful  than  an  elephant's,  and  now  with  a  touch 
more  precise  and  dainty  than  a  pianist's.  The  taste  for 
machinery  was  one  that  I  could  never  share  with  him, 
and  he  had  a  certain  bitter  pity  for  my  weakness.  Once 
when  I  had  proved,  for  the  hundredth  time,  the  depth 
of  this  defect,  he  looked  at  me  askance:  "  And  the  best 
of  the  joke,"  said  he,  "  is  that  he  thinks  himself  quite  a 
poet."  For  to  him  the  struggle  of  the  engineer  against 
brute  forces  and  with  inert  allies,  was  nobly  poetic. 
Habit  never  dulled  in  him  the  sense  of  the  greatness  of 
the  aims  and  obstacles  of  his  profession.  Habit  only 

5' 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

sharpened  his  inventor's  gusto  in  contrivance,  in  tri- 
umphant artifice,  in  the  Odyssean  subtleties,  by  which 
wires  are  taught  to  speak,  and  iron  hands  to  weave, 
and  the  slender  ship  to  brave  and  to  outstrip  the  tem- 
pest. To  the  ignorant  the  great  results  alone  are  admi- 
rable; to  the  knowing,  and  to  Fleeming  in  particular, 
rather  the  infinite  device  and  sleight  of  hand  that  made 
them  possible. 

A  notion  was  current  at  the  time  that,  in  such  a  shop 
as  Fairbairn's,  a  pupil  would  never  be  popular  unless  he 
drank  with  the  workmen  and  imitated  them  in  speech 
and  manner.  Fleeming,  who  would  do  none  of  these 
things,  they  accepted  as  a  friend  and  companion;  and 
this  was  the  subject  of  remark  in  Manchester,  where 
some  memory  of  it  lingers  till  to-day.  He  thought  it 
one  of  the  advantages  of  his  profession  to  be  brought 
into  a  close  relation  with  the  working  classes;  and  for 
the  skilled  artisan  he  had  a  great  esteem,  liking  his 
company,  his  virtues,  and  his  taste  in  some  of  the  arts. 
But  he  knew  the  classes  too  well  to  regard  them,  like  a 
platform  speaker,  in  a  lump.  He  drew,  on  the  other 
hand,  broad  distinctions;  and  it  was  his  profound  sense 
of  the  difference  between  one  working  man  and  another 
that  led  him  to  devote  so  much  time,  in  later  days,  to 
the  furtherance  of  technical  education.  In  1852  he  had 
occasion  to  see  both  men  and  masters  at  their  worst,  in 
the  excitement  of  a  strike;  and  very  foolishly  (after  their 
custom)  both  would  seem  to  have  behaved.  Beginning 
with  a  fair  show  of  justice  on  either  side,  the  masters 
stultified  their  cause  by  obstinate  impolicy,  and  the  men 
disgraced  their  order  by  acts  of  outrage.  "  On  Wednes- 
day last,"  writes  Fleeming,  "about  three  thousand 

5* 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

banded  round  Fairbairn's  door  at  6  o'clock:  men, 
women,  and  children,  factory  boys  and  girls,  the  lowest 
of  the  low  in  a  very  low  place.  Orders  came  that  no 
one  was  to  leave  the  works;  but  the  men  inside  (Knob- 
sticks as  they  are  called)  were  precious  hungry  and 
thought  they  would  venture.  Two  of  my  companions 
and  myself  went  out  with  the  very  first,  and  had  the 
full  benefit  of  every  possible  groan  and  bad  language." 
But  the  police  cleared  a  lane  through  the  crowd,  the 
pupils  were  suffered  to  escape  unhurt,  and  only  the 
Knobsticks  followed  home  and  kicked  with  clogs;  so 
that  Fleeming  enjoyed,  as  we  may  say,  for  nothing, 
that  fine  thrill  of  expectant  valour  with  which  he  had 
sallied  forth  into  the  mob.  "  I  never  before  felt  myself 
so  decidedly  somebody,  instead  of  nobody,"  he  wrote. 
Outside  as  inside  the  works,  he  was  "  pretty  merry 
and  well  to  do,"  zealous  in  study,  welcome  to  many 
friends,  unwearied  in  loving-kindness  to  his  mother. 
For  some  time  he  spent  three  nights  a  week  with  Dr. 
Bell,  "working  away  at  certain  geometrical  methods 
of  getting  the  Greek  architectural  proportions  ":  a 
business  after  Fleeming's  heart,  for  he  was  never  so 
pleased  as  when  he  could  marry  his  two  devotions,  art 
and  science.  This  was  besides,  in  all  likelihood,  the 
beginning  of  that  love  and  intimate  appreciation  of 
things  Greek,  from  the  least  to  the  greatest,  from  the 
Agamemnon  (perhaps  his  favourite  tragedy)  down  to 
the  details  of  Grecian  tailoring,  which  he  used  to 
express  in  his  familiar  phrase:  "The  Greeks  were  the 
boys."  Dr.  Bell — the  son  of  George  Joseph,  the  nephew 
of  Sir  Charles,  and  though  he  made  less  use  of  it  than 
some,  a  sharer  in  the  distinguished  talents  of  his  race — 

53 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

had  hit  upon  the  singular  fact  that  certain  geometrical 
intersections  gave  the  proportions  of  the  Doric  order. 
Fleeming,  under  Dr.  Bell's  direction,  applied  the  same 
method  to  the  other  orders,  and  again  found  the  pro- 
portions accurately  given.  Numbers  of  diagrams  were 
prepared;  but  the  discovery  was  never  given  to  the 
world,  perhaps  because  of  the  dissensions  that  arose  be- 
tween the  authors.  For  Dr.  Bell  believed  that  "these 
intersections  were  in  some  way  connected  with,  or 
symbolical  of,  the  antagonistic  forces  at  work  " ;  but  his 
pupil  and  helper,  with  characteristic  trenchancy,  brushed 
aside  this  mysticism,  and  interpreted  the  discovery  as 
"a  geometrical  method  of  dividing  the  spaces  or  (as 
might  be  said)  of  setting  out  the  work,  purely  empirical 
and  in  no  way  connected  with  any  laws  of  either  force 
or  beauty."  "Many  a  hard  and  pleasant  fight  we  had 
over  it,"  wrote  Jenkin,  in  later  years;  "  and  impertinent 
as  it  may  seem,  the  pupil  is  still  unconvinced  by  the  ar- 
guments of  the  master."  I  do  not  know  about  the  an- 
tagonistic forces  in  the  Doric  order;  in  Fleeming  they 
were  plain  enough ;  and  the  Bobadil  of  these  affairs  with 
Dr.  Bell  was  still,  like  the  corrector  of  Italian  consuls, 
"  a  great  child  in  everything  but  information."  At  the 
house  of  Colonel  Cleather,  he  might  be  seen  with  a 
family  of  children ;  and  with  these,  there  was  no  word 
of  the  Greek  orders;  with  these  Fleeming  was  only  an 
uproarious  boy  and  an  entertaining  draughtsman;  so 
that  his  coming  was  the  signal  for  the  young  people  to 
troop  into  the  playroom,  where  sometimes  the  roof  rang 
with  romping,  and  sometimes  they  gathered  quietly 
about  him  as  he  amused  them  with  his  pencil. 
In  another  Manchester  family,  whose  name  will  be 

54 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

familiar  to  my  readers  —  that  of  the  Gaskells,  Fleeming 
was  a  frequent  visitor.  To  Mrs.  Gaskell,  he  would  often 
bring  his  new  ideas,  a  process  that  many  of  his  later 
friends  will  understand  and,  in  their  own  cases,  remem- 
ber. With  the  girls,  he  had  "  constant  fierce  wrangles," 
forcing  them  to  reason  out  their  thoughts  and  to  explain 
their  prepossessions;  and  I  hear  from  Miss  Gaskell  that 
they  used  to  wonder  how  he  could  throw  all  the  ardour 
of  his  character  into  the  smallest  matters,  and  to  admire 
his  unselfish  devotion  to  his  parents.  Of  one  of  these 
wrangles,  I  have  found  a  record  most  characteristic  of 
the  man.  Fleeming  had  been  laying  down  his  doctrine 
that  the  end  justifies  the  means,  and  that  it  is  quite  right 
"  to  boast  of  your  six  men-servants  to  a  burglar  or  to 
steal  a  knife  to  prevent  a  murder  " ;  and  the  Miss  Gas- 
kells, with  girlish  loyalty  to  what  is  current,  had  rejected 
the  heresy  with  indignation.  From  such  passages-at- 
arms,  many  retire  mortified  and  ruffled;  but  Fleeming 
had  no  sooner  left  the  house  than  he  fell  into  delighted 
admiration  of  the  spirit  of  his  adversaries.  From  that 
it  was  but  a  step  to  ask  himself  "  what  truth  was  stick- 
ing in  their  heads  " ;  for  even  the  falsest  form  of  words 
(in  Fleeming's  life-long  opinion)  reposed  upon  some 
truth,  just  as  he  could  "  not  even  allow  that  people  ad- 
mire ugly  things,  they  admire  what  is  pretty  in  the  ugly 
thing."  And  before  he  sat  down  to  write  his  letter,  he 
thought  he  had  hit  upon  the  explanation.  "  I  fancy  the 
true  idea,"  he  wrote,  "  is  that  you  must  never  do  your- 
self or  any  one  else  a  moral  injury  —  make  any  man  a 
thief  or  a  liar  —  for  any  end  " ;  quite  a  different  thing,  as 
he  would  have  loved  to  point  out,  from  never  stealing 
or  lying.  But  this  perfervid  disputant  was  not  always 

55 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENK1N 

out  of  key  with  his  audience.  One  whom  he  met  in 
the  same  house  announced  that  she  would  never  again 
be  happy.  "  What  does  that  signify  ?  "  cried  Fleeming. 
"  We  are  not  here  to  be  happy,  but  to  be  good."  And 
the  words  (as  his  hearer  writes  to  me)  became  to  her  a 
sort  of  motto  during  life. 

From  Fairbairn's  and  Manchester,  Fleeming  passed  to 
a  railway  survey  in  Switzerland,  and  thence  again  to 
Mr.  Penn's  at  Greenwich,  where  he  was  engaged  as 
draughtsman.  There  in  1856,  we  find  him  in  "a  ter- 
ribly busy  state,  finishing  up  engines  for  innumerable 
gun-boats  and  steam  frigates  for  the  ensuing  cam- 
paign." From  half-past  eight  in  the  morning  till  nine 
or  ten  at  night,  he  worked  in  a  crowded  office  among 
uncongenial  comrades,  "saluted  by  chaff,  generally 
low  personal  and  not  witty,"  pelted  with  oranges  and 
apples,  regaled  with  dirty  stories,  and  seeking  to  suit 
himself  with  his  surroundings  or  (as  he  writes)  trying 
to  be  as  little  like  himself  as  possible.  His  lodgings 
were  hard  by,  "across  a  dirty  green  and  through  some 
half-built  streets  of  two-storied  houses ; "  he  had  Carlyle 
and  the  poets,  engineering  and  mathematics,  to  study 
by  himself  in  such  spare  time  as  remained  to  him ;  and 
there  were  several  ladies,  young  and  not  so  young, 
with  whom  he  liked  to  correspond.  But  not  all  of  these 
could  compensate  for  the  absence  of  that  mother,  who 
had  made  herself  so  large  a  figure  in  his  life,  for  sorry 
surroundings,  unsuitable  society,  and  work  that  leaned 
to  the  mechanical.  "Sunday,"  says  he,  "I  generally 
visit  some  friends  in  town  and  seem  to  swim  in  clearer 
water,  but  the  dirty  green  seems  all  the  dirtier  when  I 
get  back.  Luckily  I  am  fond  of  my  profession,  or  I 

56 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

could  not  stand  this  life."  It  is  a  question  in  my  mind, 
if  he  could  have  long  continued  to  stand  it  without  loss. 
"  We  are  not  here  to  be  happy,  but  to  be  good,"  quoth 
the  young  philosopher;  but  no  man  had  a  keener  appe- 
tite for  happiness  than  Fleeming  Jenkin.  There  is  a 
time  of  life  besides  when,  apart  from  circumstances, 
few  men  are  agreeable  to  their  neighbours  and  still 
fewer  to  themselves;  and  it  was  at  this  stage  that 
Fleeming  had  arrived,  later  than  common  and  even 
worse  provided.  The  letter  from  which  I  have  quoted 
is  the  last  of  his  correspondence  with  Frank  Scott,  and 
his  last  confidential  letter  to  one  of  his  own  sex.  "  If 
you  consider  it  rightly,"  he  wrote  long  after,  "you  will 
find  the  want  of  correspondence  no  such  strange  want 
in  men's  friendships.  There  is,  believe  me,  something 
noble  in  the  metal  which  does  not  rust  though  not 
burnished  by  daily  use."  It  is  well  said;  but  the  last 
letter  to  Frank  Scott  is  scarcely  of  a  noble  metal.  It  is 
plain  the  writer  has  outgrown  his  old  self,  yet  not  made 
acquaintance  with  the  new.  This  letter  from  a  busy 
youth  of  three  and  twenty,  breathes  of  seventeen :  the 
sickening  alternations  of  conceit  and  shame,  the  expense 
of  hope  in  vacua,  the  lack  of  friends,  the  longing  after 
love;  the  whole  world  of  egoism  under  which  youth 
stands  groaning,  a  voluntary  Atlas. 

With  Fleeming  this  disease  was  never  seemingly 
severe.  The  very  day  before  this  (to  me)  distasteful 
letter,  he  had  written  to  Miss  Bell  of  Manchester  in  a 
sweeter  strain;  I  do  not  quote  the  one,  I  quote  the 
other;  fair  things  are  the  best.  "I  keep  my  own  little 
lodgings,"  he  writes,  "but  come  up  every  night  to  see 
mamma"  (who  was  then  on  a  visit  to  London)  "if  not 

57 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

kept  too  late  at  the  works;  and  have  singing  lessons 
once  more,  and  sing  '  Donne  I'amore  t  scaltro  pargo- 
letto';  and  think  and  talk  about  you;  and  listen  to 
mamma's  projects  de  Stowting.  Everything  turns  to 
gold  at  her  touch,  she  's  a  fairy  and  no  mistake.  We 
go  on  talking  till  I  have  a  picture  in  my  head,  and  can 
hardly  believe  at  the  end  that  the  original  is  Stowting. 
Even  you  don't  know  half  how  good  mamma  is;  in 
other  things  too,  which  I  must  not  mention.  She 
teaches  me  how  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  very  rich  to 
do  much  good.  I  begin  to  understand  that  mamma 
would  find  useful  occupation  and  create  beauty  at  the 
bottom  of  a  volcano.  She  has  little  weaknesses,  but  is 
a  real  generous-hearted  woman,  which  I  suppose  is  the 
finest  thing  in  the  world."  Though  neither  mother 
nor  son  could  be  called  beautiful,  they  make  a  pretty 
picture;  the  ugly,  generous,  ardent  woman  weaving 
rainbow  illusions;  the  ugly,  clear-sighted,  loving  son 
sitting  at  her  side  in  one  of  his  rare  hours  of  pleasure, 
half-beguiled,  half-amused,  wholly  admiring,  as  he  lis- 
tens. But  as  he  goes  home,  and  the  fancy  pictures 
fade,  and  Stowting  is  once  more  burthened  with  debt, 
and  the  noisy  companions  and  the  long  hours  of 
drudgery  once  more  approach,  no  wonder  if  the  dirty 
green  seems  all  the  dirtier  or  if  Atlas  must  resume  his 
load. 

But  in  healthy  natures,  this  time  of  moral  teething 
passes  quickly  of  itself,  and  is  easily  alleviated  by  fresh 
interests ;  and  already,  in  the  letter  to  Frank  Scott,  there 
are  two  words  of  hope:  his  friends  in  London,  his  love 
for  his  profession.  The  last  might  have  saved  him ;  for 
he  was  ere  long  to  pass  into  a  new  sphere,  where  all  his 

58 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

faculties  were  to  be  tried  and  exercised,  and  his  life  to 
be  filled  with  interest  and  effort.  But  it  was  not  left  to 
engineering:  another  and  more  influential  aim  was  to  be 
set  before  him.  He  must,  in  any  case,  have  fallen  in  love ; 
in  any  case,  his  love  would  have  ruled  his  life ;  and  the 
question  of  choice  was,  for  the  descendant  of  two  such 
families,  a  thing  of  paramount  importance.  Innocent 
of  the  world,  fiery,  generous,  devoted  as  he  was,  the 
son  of  the  wild  Jacksons  and  the  facile  Jenkins  might 
have  been  led  far  astray.  By  one  of  those  partialities 
that  fill  men  at  once  with  gratitude  and  wonder,  his 
choosing  was  directed  well.  Or  are  we  to  say  that  by 
a  man's  choice  in  marriage,  as  by  a  crucial  merit,  he 
deserves  his  fortune  ?  One  thing  at  least  reason  may 
discern :  that  a  man  but  partly  chooses,  he  also  partly 
forms,  his  helpmate;  and  he  must  in  part  deserve  her,  or 
the  treasure  is  but  won  for  a  moment  to  be  lost.  Fleem- 
ing  chanced  if  you  will  (and  indeed  all  these  opportuni- 
ties are  as  "random  as  blind  man's  buff")  upon  a  wife 
who  was  worthy  of  him;  but  he  had  the  wit  to  know 
it,  the  courage  to  wait  and  labour  for  his  prize,  and  the 
tenderness  and  chivalry  that  are  required  to  keep  such 
prizes  precious.  Upon  this  point  he  has  himself  written 
well,  as  usual  with  fervent  optimism,  but  as  usual  (in  his 
own  phrase)  with  a  truth  sticking  in  his  head. 

"  Love,"  he  wrote,  "is  not  an  intuition  of  the  person 
most  suitable  to  us,  most  required  by  us;  of  the  person 
with  whom  life  flowers  and  bears  fruit.  If  this  were 
so,  the  chances  of  our  meeting  that  person  would  be 
small  indeed;  our  intuition  would  often  fail;  the  blind- 
ness of  love  would  then  be  fatal  as  it  is  proverbial.  No, 
love  works  differently,  and  in  its  blindness  lies  its 

59 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENK1N 

strength.  Man  and  woman,  each  strongly  desires  to  be 
loved,  each  opens  to  the  other  that  heart  of  ideal  aspi- 
rations which  they  have  often  hid  till  then ;  each,  thus 
knowing  the  ideal  of  the  other,  tries  to  fulfil  that  ideal, 
each  partially  succeeds.  The  greater  the  love,  the 
greater  the  success;  the  nobler  the  ideal  of  each,  the 
more  durable,  the  more  beautiful  the  effect.  Meanwhile 
the  blindness  of  each  to  the  other's  defects  enables  the 
transformation  to  proceed  [unobserved],  so  that  when 
the  veil  is  withdrawn  (if  it  ever  is,  and  this  I  do  not 
know)  neither  knows  that  any  change  has  occurred  in 
the  person  whom  they  loved.  Do  not  fear,  therefore. 
I  do  not  tell  you  that  your  friend  will  not  change,  but 
as  I  am  sure  that  her  choice  cannot  be  that  of  a  man 
with  a  base  ideal,  so  I  am  sure  the  change  will  be  a 
safe  and  a  good  one.  Do  not  fear  that  anything  you 
love  will  vanish,  he  must  love  it  too." 

Among  other  introductions  in  London,  Fleeming  had 
presented  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Gaskell  to  the  Alfred  Aus- 
tins. This  was  a  family  certain  to  interest  a  thoughtful 
young  man.  Alfred,  the  youngest  and  least  known  of 
the  Austins,  had  been  a  beautiful  golden-haired  child, 
petted  and  kept  out  of  the  way  of  both  sport  and  study 
by  a  partial  mother.  Bred  an  attorney,  he  had  (like 
both  his  brothers)  changed  his  way  of  life,  and  was 
called  to  the  bar  when  past  thirty.  A  Commission  of 
Enquiry  into  the  state  of  the  poor  in  Dorsetshire  gave 
him  an  opportunity  of  proving  his  true  talents;  and  he 
was  appointed  a  Poor  Law  Inspector,  first  at  Worcester, 
next  at  Manchester,  where  he  had  to  deal  with  the  po- 
tato famine  and  the  Irish  immigration  of  the  'forties, 
and  finally  in  London,  where  he  again  distinguished 

60 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

himself  during  an  epidemic  of  cholera.  He  was  then 
advanced  to  the  Permanent  Secretaryship  of  Her  Ma- 
jesty's Office  of  Works  and  Public  Buildings;  a  position 
which  he  filled  with  perfect  competence,  but  with  an 
extreme  of  modesty;  and  on  his  retirement,  in  1868,  he 
was  made  a  Companion  of  the  Bath.  While  apprentice 
to  a  Norwich  attorney,  Alfred  Austin  was  a  frequent 
visitor  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Barren,  a  rallying  place  in 
those  days  of  intellectual  society.  Edward  Barron,  the 
son  of  a  rich  saddler  or  leather  merchant  in  the  Bor- 
ough, was  a  man  typical  of  the  time.  When  he  was  a 
child,  he  had  once  been  patted  on  the  head  in  his 
father's  shop  by  no  less  a  man  than  Samuel  Johnson,  as 
the  Doctor  went  round  the  Borough  canvassing  for  Mr. 
Thrale;  and  the  child  was  true  to  this  early  consecration. 
"  A  life  of  lettered  ease  spent  in  provincial  retirement," 
it  is  thus  that  the  biographer  of  that  remarkable  man,  Wil- 
liam Taylor,  announces  his  subject;  and  the  phrase  is 
equally  descriptive  of  the  life  of  Edward  Barron.  The 
pair  were  close  friends:  "  W.  T.  and  a  pipe  render 
everything  agreeable,"  writes  Barron  in  his  diary  in 
1828;  and  in  1833,  a^er  Barron  had  moved  to  London 
and  Taylor  had  tasted  the  first  public  failure  of  his 
powers,  the  latter  wrote:  "To  my  ever  dearest  Mr. 
Barron  say,  if  you  please,  that  I  miss  him  more  than  I 
regret  him  —  that  I  acquiesce  in  his  retirement  from 
Norwich,  because  I  could  ill  brook  his  observation  of 
my  increasing  debility  of  mind."  This  chosen  com- 
panion of  William  Taylor  must  himself  have  been  no 
ordinary  man ;  and  he  was  the  friend  besides  of  Borrow, 
whom  I  find  him  helping  in  his  Latin.  But  he  had  no 
desire  for  popular  distinction,  lived  privately,  married  a 

6. 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

daughter  of  Dr.  Enfield  of  Enfield's  Speaker,  and  de- 
voted his  time  to  the  education  of  his  family,  in  a  delib- 
erate and  scholarly  fashion,  and  with  certain  traits  of 
stoicism,  that  would  surprise  a  modern.  From  these 
children  we  must  single  out  his  youngest  daughter, 
Eliza,  who  learned  under  his  care  to  be  a  sound  Latin, 
an  elegant  Grecian,  and  to  suppress  emotion  without 
outward  sign  after  the  manner  of  the  Godwin  school. 
This  was  the  more  notable,  as  the  girl  really  derived 
from  the  Enfields;  whose  high-flown  romantic  temper 
I  wish  I  could  find  space  to  illustrate.  She  was  but 
seven  years  old,  when  Alfred  Austin  remarked  and  fell 
in  love  with  her;  and  the  union  thus  early  prepared  was 
singularly  full.  Where  the  husband  and  wife  differed, 
and  they  did  so  on  momentous  subjects,  they  differed 
with  perfect  temper  and  content;  and  in  the  conduct  of 
life,  and  in  depth  and  durability  of  love,  they  were  at 
one.  Each  full  of  high  spirits,  each  practised  something 
of  the  same  repression :  no  sharp  word  was  uttered  in 
their  house.  The  same  point  of  honour  ruled  them ;  a 
guest  was  sacred  and  stood  within  the  pale  from  criti- 
cism. It  was  a  house,  besides,  of  unusual  intellectual 
tension.  Mrs.  Austin  remembered,  in  the  early  days  of 
the  marriage,  the  three  brothers,  John,  Charles,  and  Al- 
fred, marching  to  and  fro,  each  with  his  hands  behind 
his  back,  and  "reasoning  high  "  till  morning;  and  how, 
like  Dr.  Johnson,  they  would  cheer  their  speculations 
with  as  many  as  fifteen  cups  of  tea.  And  though,  be- 
fore the  date  of  Fleeming's  visit,  the  brothers  were  sep- 
arated, Charles  long  ago  retired  from  the  world  at 
Brandeston,  and  John  already  near  his  end  in  the 
"rambling  old  house"  at  Weybridge,  Alfred  Austin 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

and  his  wife  were  still  a  centre  of  much  intellectual  so- 
ciety, and  still,  as  indeed  they  remained  until  the  last, 
youthfully  alert  in  mind.  There  was  but  one  child  of 
the  marriage,  Anne,  and  she  was  herself  something  new 
for  the  eyes  of  the  young  visitor;  brought  up,  as  she  had 
been,  like  her  mother  before  her,  to  the  standard  of  a 
man's  acquirements.  Only  one  art  had  she  been  de- 
nied, she  must  not  learn  the  violin  —  the  thought  was 
too  monstrous  even  for  the  Austins;  and  indeed  it 
would  seem  as  if  that  tide  of  reform  which  we  may  date 
from  the  days  of  Mary  Wollstonecraft  had  in  some  de- 
gree even  receded ;  for  though  Miss  Austin  was  suffered 
to  learn  Greek,  the  accomplishment  was  kept  secret  like 
a  piece  of  guilt.  But  whether  this  stealth  was  caused 
by  a  backward  movement  in  public  thought  since  the 
time  of  Edward  Barren,  or  by  the  change  from  enlight- 
ened Norwich  to  barbarian  London,  I  have  no.  means 
of  judging. 

When  Fleeming  presented  his  letter,  he  fell  in  love  at 
first  sight  with  Mrs.  Austin  and  the  life  and  atmosphere 
of  the  house.  There  was  in  the  society  of  the  Austins, 
outward,  stoical  conformers  to  the  world,  something 
gravely  suggestive  of  essential  eccentricity,  something 
unpretentiously  breathing  of  intellectual  effort,  that  could 
not  fail  to  hit  the  fancy  of  this  hot-brained  boy.  The 
unbroken  enamel  of  courtesy,  the  self-restraint,  the  dig- 
nified kindness  of  these  married  folk,  had  besides  a  par- 
ticular attraction  for  their  visitor.  He  could  not  but 
compare  what  he  saw,  with  what  he  knew  of  his 
mother  and  himself.  Whatever  virtues  Fleeming  pos- 
sessed, he  could  never  count  on  being  civil;  whatever 
brave,  true-hearted  qualities  he  was  able  to  admire  in 

63 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Mrs.  Jenkin,  mildness  of  demeanour  was  not  one  of 
them.  And  here  he  found  persons  who  were  the  equals 
of  his  mother  and  himself  in  intellect  and  width  of  in- 
terest, and  the  equals  of  his  father  in  mild  urbanity  of 
disposition.  Show  Fleeming  an  active  virtue,  and  he 
always  loved  it.  He  went  away  from  that  house  struck 
through  with  admiration,  and  vowing  to  himself  that 
his  own  married  life  should  be  upon  that  pattern,  his 
wife  (whoever  she  might  be)  like  Eliza  Barren,  himself 
such  another  husband  as  Alfred  Austin.  What  is  more 
strange,  he  not  only  brought  away,  but  left  behind  him, 
golden  opinions.  He  must  have  been  —  he  was,  I  am 
told  —  a  trying  lad;  but  there  shone  out  of  him  such  a 
light  of  innocent  candour,  enthusiasm,  intelligence,  and 
appreciation,  that  to  persons  already  some  way  forward 
in  years,  and  thus  able  to  enjoy  indulgently  the  peren- 
nial comedy  of  youth,  the  sight  of  him  was  delightful. 
By  a  pleasant  coincidence,  there  was  one  person  in  the 
house  whom  he  did  not  appreciate  and  who  did  not 
appreciate  him:  Anne  Austin,  his  future  wife.  His 
boyish  vanity  ruffled  her;  his  appearance,  never  im- 
pressive, was  then,  by  reason  of  obtrusive  boyishness, 
still  less  so;  she  found  occasion  to  put  him  in  the  wrong 
by  correcting  a  false  quantity;  and  when  Mr.  Austin, 
after  doing  his  visitor  the  almost  unheard-of  honour  of 
accompanying  him  to  the  door,  announced  "  That  was 
what  young  men  were  like  in  my  time  " — she  could 
only  reply,  looking  on  her  handsome  father,  "I  thought 
they  had  been  better  looking." 

This  first  visit  to  the  Austins  took  place  in  1855;  and 
it  seems  it  was  some  time  before  Fleeming  began  to 
know  his  mind ;  and  yet  longer  ere  he  ventured  to  show 

64 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

it.  The  corrected  quantity,  to  those  who  knew  him 
well,  will  seem  to  have  played  its  part;  he  was  the 
man  always  to  reflect  over  a  correction  and  to  admire 
the  castigator.  And  fall  in  love  he  did;  not  hurriedly 
but  step  by  step,  not  blindly  but  with  critical  discrim- 
ination; not  in  the  fashion  of  Romeo,  but  before  he 
was  done,  with  all  Romeo's  ardour  and  more  than 
Romeo's  faith.  The  high  favour  to  which  he  presently 
rose  in  the  esteem  of  Alfred  Austin  and  his  wife,  might 
well  give  him  ambitious  notions;  but  the  poverty  of  the 
present  and  the  obscurity  of  the  future  were  there  to  give 
him  pause;  and  when  his  aspirations  began  to  settle 
round  Miss  Austin,  he  tasted,  perhaps  for  the  only  time 
in  his  life,  the  pangs  of  diffidence.  There  was  indeed 
opening  before  him  a  wide  door  of  hope.  He  had 
changed  into  the  service  of  Messrs.  Liddell  &  Gordon; 
these  gentlemen  had  begun  to  dabble  in  the  new  field 
of  marine  telegraphy;  and  Fleeming  was  already  face 
to  face  with  his  life's  work.  That  impotent  sense  of 
his  own  value,  as  of  a  ship  aground,  which  makes  one 
of  the  agonies  of  youth,  began  to  fall  from  him.  New 
problems  which  he  was  endowed  to  solve,  vistas  of 
new  enquiry  which  he  was  fitted  to  explore,  opened 
before  him  continually.  His  gifts  had  found  their 
avenue  and  goal.  And  with  this  pleasure  of  effective 
exercise,  there  must  have  sprung  up  at  once  the  hope 
of  what  is  called  by  the  world  success.  But  from  these 
low  beginnings,  it  was  a  far  look  upward  to  Miss  Aus- 
tin :  the  favour  of  the  loved  one  seems  always  more 
than  problematical  to  any  lover;  the  consent  of  parents 
must  be  always  more  than  doubtful  to  a  young  man 
with  a  small  salary  and  no  capital  except  capacity  and 

65 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

hope.  But  Fleeming  was  not  the  lad  to  lose  any  good 
thing  for  the  lack  of  trial ;  and  at  length,  in  the  autumn 
of  1857,  this  boyish-sized,  boyish-mannered,  and  super- 
latively ill-dressed  young  engineer  entered  the  house 
of  the  Austins,  with  such  sinkings  as  we  may  fancy, 
and  asked  leave  to  pay  his  addresses  to  the  daughter. 
Mrs.  Austin  already  loved  him  like  a  son,  she  was  but 
too  glad  to  give  him  her  consent;  Mr.  Austin  reserved 
the  right  to  inquire  into  his  character ;  from  neither  was 
there  a  word  about  his  prospects,  by  neither  was  his 
income  mentioned.  "Are  these  people,"  he  wrote, 
struck  with  wonder  at  this  dignified  disinterestedness, 
"are  these  people  the  same  as  other  people  ?"  It  was 
not  till  he  was  armed  with  this  permission,  that  Miss 
Austin  even  suspected  the  nature  of  his  hopes:  so 
strong,  in  this  unmannerly  boy,  was  the  principle  of 
true  courtesy;  so  powerful,  in  this  impetuous  nature, 
the  springs  of  self-repression.  And  yet  a  boy  he  was ; 
a  boy  in  heart  and  mind;  and  it  was  with  a  boy's  chiv- 
alry and  frankness  that  he  won  his  wife.  His  conduct 
was  a  model  of  honour,  hardly  of  tact;  to  conceal  love 
from  the  loved  one,  to  court  her  parents,  to  be  silent 
and  discreet  till  these  are  won,  and  then  without  pre- 
paration to  approach  the  lady  —  these  are  not  arts  that 
I  would  recommend  for  imitation.  They  lead  to  final 
refusal.  Nothing  saved  Fleeming  from  that  fate,  but 
one  circumstance  that  cannot  be  counted  upon  —  the 
hearty  favour  of  the  mother,  and  one  gift  that  is  inimi- 
table and  that  never  failed  him  throughout  life,  the  gift 
of  a  nature  essentially  noble  and  outspoken.  A  happy 
and  high-minded  anger  flashed  through  his  despair:  it 
won  for  him  his  wife. 

66 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Nearly  two  years  passed  before  it  was  possible  to 
marry :  two  years  of  activity,  now  in  London ;  now  at 
Birkenhead,  fitting  out  ships,  inventing  new  machinery 
for  new  purposes,  and  dipping  into  electrical  experi- 
ment ;  now  in  the  Elba  on  his  first  telegraph  cruise  be- 
tween Sardinia  and  Algiers :  a  busy  and  delightful  period 
of  bounding  ardour,  incessant  toil,  growing  hope  and 
fresh  interests,  with  behind  and  through  all,  the  image 
of  his  beloved.  A  few  extracts  from  his  correspondence 
with  his  betrothed  will  give  the  note  of  these  truly 
joyous  years.  "  My  profession  gives  me  all  the  excite- 
ment and  interest  I  ever  hope  for,  but  the  sorry  jade  is 
obviously  jealous  of  you."  —  "'Poor  Fleeming,'  in 
spite  of  wet,  cold  and  wind,  clambering  over  moist, 
tarry  slips,  wandering  among  pools  of  slush  in  waste 
places  inhabited  by  wandering  locomotives,  grows  visi- 
bly stronger,  has  dismissed  his  office  cough  and  cured 
his  toothache." — "  The  whole  of  the  paying  out  and  lift- 
ing machinery  must  be  designed  and  ordered  in  two  or 
three  days,  and  I  am  half  crazy  with  work.  I  like  it 
though :  it's  like  a  good  ball,  the  excitement  carries  you 
through."  —  "I  was  running  to  and  from  the  ships  and 
warehouse  through  fierce  gusts  of  rain  and  wind  till  near 
eleven,  and  you  cannot  think  what  a  pleasure  it  was  to  be 
blown  about  and  think  of  you  in  your  pretty  dress."  — 
"  I  am  at  the  works  till  ten  and  sometimes  till  eleven. 
But  I  have  a  nice  office  to  sit  in,  with  a  fire  to  myself, 
and  bright  brass  scientific  instruments  all  around  me, 
and  books  to  read,  and  experiments  to  make,  and  enjoy 
myself  amazingly.  I  find  the  study  of  electricity  so  en- 
tertaining that  I  am  apt  to  neglect  my  other  work." 
And  for  a  last  taste, —  "  Yesterday  I  had  some  charming 

67 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEM1NG  JENKIN 

electrical  experiments.     What  shall  I  compare  them  to 
—  a  new  song  ?  a  Greek  play  ?  " 

It  was  at  this  time  besides  that  he  made  the  acquain- 
tance of  Professor,  now  Sir  William,  Thomson.  To 
describe  the  part  played  by  these  two  in  each  other's 
lives  would  lie  out  of  my  way.  They  worked  together 
on  the  Committee  on  Electrical  Standards ;  they  served 
together  at  the  laying  down  or  the  repair  of  many 
deep-sea  cables;  and  Sir  William  was  regarded  by 
Fleeming,  not  only  with  the  "  worship  "  (the  word  is  his 
own)  due  to  great  scientific  gifts,  but  with  an  ardour 
of  personal  friendship  not  frequently  excelled.  To  their 
association,  Fleeming  brought  the  valuable  element  of  a 
practical  understanding;  but  he  never  thought  or  spoke 
of  himself  where  Sir  William  was  in  question;  and  I 
recall,  quite  in  his  last  days,  a  singular  instance  of  this 
modest  loyalty  to  one  whom  he  admired  and  loved. 
He  drew  up  a  paper,  in  a  quite  personal  interest,  of  his 
own  services;  yet  even  here  he  must  step  out  of  his 
way,  he  must  add,  where  it  had  no  claim  to  be  added, 
his  opinion  that,  in  their  joint  work,  the  contributions 
of  Sir  William  had  been  always  greatly  the  most  valu- 
able. Again,  I  shall  not  readily  forget  with  what  emo- 
tion he  once  told  me  an  incident  of  their  associated 
travels.  On  one  of  the  mountain  ledges  of  Madeira, 
Fleeming's  pony  bolted  between  Sir  William  and  the 
precipice  above;  by  strange  good  fortune  and  thanks  to 
the  steadiness  of  Sir  William's  horse,  no  harm  was 
done;  but  for  the  moment,  Fleeming  saw  his  friend 
hurled  into  the  sea,  and  almost  by  his  own  act:  it  was 
a  memory  that  haunted  him. 

68 


CHAPTER  IV 
1859—1868 

Fleeming's  Marriage  —  His  Married  Life — Professional  Difficulties  — 
Life  at  Claygate  —  Illness  of  Mrs.  F.  Jenkin;  and  of  Fleeming  —  Ap- 
pointment to  the  Chair  at  Edinburgh. 

On  Saturday,  Feb.  26,  1859,  profiting  by  a  holiday  of 
four  days,  Fleeming  was  married  to  Miss  Austin  at 
Northiam:  a  place  connected  not  only  with  his  own 
family  but  with  that  of  his  bride  as  well.  By  Tuesday 
morning,  he  was  at  work  again,  fitting  out  cableships 
at  Birkenhead.  Of  the  walk  from  his  lodgings  to  the 
works,  I  find  a  graphic  sketch  in  one  of  his  letters: 
"  Out  over  the  railway  bridge,  along  a  wide  road  raised 
to  the  level  of  a  ground  floor  above  the  land,  which,  not 
being  built  upon,  harbours  puddles,  ponds,  pigs,  and 
Irish  hovels;  —  so  to  the  dock  warehouses,  four  huge 
piles  of  building  with  no  windows,  surrounded  by  a 
wall  about  twelve  feet  high;  —  in  through  the  large 
gates,  round  which  hang  twenty  or  thirty  rusty  Irish, 
playing  pitch  and  toss  and  waiting  for  employment;  — 
on  along  the  railway,  which  came  in  at  the  same  gates 
and  which  branches  down  between  each  vast  block  — 
past  a  pilot-engine  butting  refractory  trucks  into  their 
places  —  on  to  the  last  block,  [and]  down  the  branch, 
sniffing  the  guano-scented  air  and  detecting  the  old 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

bones.  The  hartshorn  flavour  of  the  guano  becomes 
very  strong,  as  I  near  the  docks  where,  across  the  Elba's 
decks,  a  huge  vessel  is  discharging  her  cargo  of  the 
brown  dust,  and  where  huge  vessels  have  been  dis- 
charging that  same  cargo  for  the  last  five  months." 
This  was  the  walk  he  took  his  young  wife  on  the  mor- 
row of  his  return.  She  had  been  used  to  the  society  of 
lawyers  and  civil  servants,  moving  in  that  circle  which 
seems  to  itself  the  pivot  of  the  nation  and  is  in  truth 
only  a  clique  like  another;  and  Fleeming  was  to  her  the 
nameless  assistant  of  a  nameless  firm  of  engineers,  doing 
his  inglorious  business,  as  she  now  saw  for  herself, 
among  unsavoury  surroundings.  But  when  their  walk 
brought  them  within  view  of  the  river,  she  beheld  a 
sight  to  her  of  the  most  novel  beauty :  four  great,  sea- 
going ships  dressed  out  with  flags.  "How  lovely!" 
she  cried.  "  What  is  it  for  ?  "  — "  For  you,"  said  Fleem- 
ing. Her  surprise  was  only  equalled  by  her  pleasure.  But 
perhaps,  for  what  we  may  call  private  fame,  there  is  no 
life  like  that  of  the  engineer;  who  is  a  great  man  in  out- 
of-the-way  places,  by  the  dockside  or  on  the  desert 
island  or  in  populous  ships,  and  remains  quite  unheard 
of  in  the  coteries  of  London.  And  Fleeming  had  already 
made  his  mark  among  the  few  who  had  an  opportunity 
of  knowing  him. 

His  marriage  was  the  one  decisive  incident  of  his 
career;  from  that  moment  until  the  day  of  his  death,  he 
had  one  thought  to  which  all  the  rest  were  tributary, 
the  thought  of  his  wife.  No  one  could  know  him  even 
slightly,  and  not  remark  the  absorbing  greatness  of  that 
sentiment;  nor  can  any  picture  of  the  man  be  drawn 
that  does  not  in  proportion  dwell  upon  it.  This  is  a 


%       MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

delicate  task;  but  if  we  are  to  leave  behind  us  (as  we 
wish)  some  presentment  of  the  friend  we  have  lost,  it  is 
a  task  that  must  be  undertaken. 

For  all  his  play  of  mind  and  fancy,  for  all  his  indul- 
gence—  and,  as  time  went  on,  he  grew  indulgent  — 
Fleeming  had  views  of  duty  that  were  even  stern.  He 
was  too  shrewd  a  student  of  his  fellow-men  to  remain 
long  content  with  rigid  formulae  of  conduct.  Iron- 
bound,  impersonal  ethics,  the  procrustean  bed  of  rules, 
he  soon  saw  at  their  true  value  as  the  deification  of 
averages.  "As  to  Miss  (I  declare  I  forget  her  name) 
being  bad,"  I  find  him  writing,  "  people  only  mean  that 
she  has  broken  the  Decalogue  —  which  is  not  at  all  the 
same  thing.  People  who  have  kept  in  the  high-road 
of  Life  really  have  less  opportunity  for  taking  a  compre- 
hensive view  of  it  than  those  who  have  leaped  over  the 
hedges  and  strayed  up  the  hills;  not  but  what  the 
hedges  are  very  necessary,  and  our  stray  travellers  often 
have  a  weary  time  of  it.  So,  you  may  say,  have  those 
in  the  dusty  roads."  Yet  he  was  himself  a  very  stern 
respecter  of  the  hedgerows;  sought  safety  and  found 
dignity  in  the  obvious  path  of  conduct;  and  would 
palter  with  no  simple  and  recognised  duty  of  his  epoch. 
Of  marriage  in  particular,  of  the  bond  so  formed,  of  the 
obligations  incurred,  of  the  debt  men  owe  to  their  chil- 
dren, he  conceived  in  a  truly  antique  spirit:  not  to 
blame  others,  but  to  constrain  himself.  It  was  not  to 
blame,  I  repeat,  that  he  held  these  views;  for  others, 
he  could  make  a  large  allowance;  and  yet  he  tacitly 
expected  of  his  friends  and  his  wife  a  high  standard 
of  behaviour.  Nor  was  it  always  easy  to  wear  the 
armour  of  that  ideal. 

7' 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Acting  upon  these  beliefs ;  conceiving  that  he  had  in- 
deed "given  himself"  (in  the  full  meaning  of  these 
words)  for  better,  for  worse ;  painfully  alive  to  his  de- 
fects of  temper  and  deficiency  in  charm;  resolute  to 
make  up  for  these;  thinking  last  of  himself :  Fleeming 
was  in  some  ways  the  very  man  to  have  made  a  noble, 
uphill  fight  of  an  unfortunate  marriage.  In  other  ways, 
it  is  true,  he  was  one  of  the  most  unfit  for  such  a  trial. 
And  it  was  his  beautiful  destiny  to  remain  to  the  last 
hour  the  same  absolute  and  romantic  lover,  who  had 
shown  to  his  new  bride  the  flag-draped  vessels  in  the 
Mersey.  No  fate  is  altogether  easy;  but  trials  are  our 
touchstone,  trials  overcome  our  reward;  and  it  was 
given  to  Fleeming  to  conquer.  It  was  given  to  him  to 
live  for  another,  not  as  a  task,  but  till  the  end  as  an  en- 
chanting pleasure.  "People  may  write  novels,"  he 
wrote  in  1869,  "and  other  people  may  write  poems, 
but  not  a  man  or  woman  among  them  can  write  to  say 
how  happy  a  man  may  be,  who  is  desperately  in  love 
with  his  wife  after  ten  years  of  marriage."  And  again 
in  1885,  after  more  than  twenty-six  years  of  marriage, 
and  within  but  five  weeks  of  his  death :  "Your  first  letter 
from  Bournemouth,"  he  wrote,  "gives  me  heavenly 
pleasure  —  for  which  I  thank  Heaven  and  you  too  — 
who  are  my  heaven  on  earth."  The  mind  hesitates 
whether  to  say  that  such  a  man  has  been  more  good 
or  more  fortunate. 

Any  woman  (it  is  the  defect  of  her  sex)  comes  sooner 
to  the  stable  mind  of  maturity  than  any  man ;  and  Jenkin 
was  to  the  end  of  a  most  deliberate  growth.  In  the 
next  chapter,  when  I  come  to  deal  with  his  telegraphic 
voyages  and  give  some  taste  of  his  correspondence,  the 

7* 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

reader  will  still  find  him  at  twenty-five  an  arrant  school- 
boy. His  wife  besides  was  more  thoroughly  educated 
than  he.  In  many  ways  she  was  able  to  teach  him, 
and  he  proud  to  be  taught;  in  many  ways  she  outshone 
him,  and  he  delighted  to  be  outshone.  All  these  superi- 
orities, and  others  that,  after  the  manner  of  lovers,  he 
no  doubt  forged  for  himself,  added  as  time  went  on  to 
the  humility  of  his  original  love.  Only  once,  in  all  I 
know  of  his  career,  did  he  show  a  touch  of  smallness. 
He  could  not  learn  to  sing  correctly ;  his  wife  told  him 
so  and  desisted  from  her  lessons ;  and  the  mortification 
was  so  sharply  felt  that  for  years  he  could  not  be  in- 
duced to  go  to  a  concert,  instanced  himself  as  a  typical 
man  without  an  ear,  and  never  sang  again.  I  tell  it; 
for  the  fact  that  this  stood  singular  in  his  behaviour,  and 
really  amazed  all  who  knew  him,  is  the  happiest  way  I 
can  imagine  to  commend  the  tenor  of  his  simplicity; 
and  because  it  illustrates  his  feeling  for  his  wife.  Others 
were  always  welcome  to  laugh  at  him ;  if  it  amused 
them,  or  if  it  amused  him,  he  would  proceed  undis- 
turbed with  his  occupation,  his  vanity  invulnerable. 
With  his  wife  it  was  different :  his  wife  had  laughed  at 
his  singing;  and  for  twenty  years  the  fibre  ached. 
Nothing,  again,  was  more  notable  than  the  formal 
chivalry  of  this  unmannered  man  to  the  person  on  earth 
with  whom  he  was  the  most  familiar.  He  was  conscious 
of  his  own  innate  and  often  rasping  vivacity  and  rough- 
ness; and  he  was  never  forgetful  of  his  first  visit  to  the 
Austins  and  the  vow  he  had  registered  on  his  return. 
There  was  thus  an  artificial  element  in  his  punctilio  that  at 
times  might  almost  raise  a  smile.  But  it  stood  on  noble 
grounds ;  for  this  was  how  he  sought  to  shelter  from  his 

7? 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENK1N 

own  petulance  the  woman  who  was  to  him  the  symbol 
of  the  household  and  to  the  end  the  beloved  of  his  youth. 
I  wish  in  this  chapter  to  chronicle  small  beer;  taking 
a  hasty  glance  at  some  ten  years  of  married  life  and  of 
professional  struggle;  and  reserving  till  the  next  all  the 
more  interesting  matter  of  his  cruises.  Of  his  achieve- 
ments and  their  worth,  it  is  not  for  me  to  speak:  his 
friend  and  partner,  Sir  William  Thomson,  has  con- 
tributed a  note  on  the  subject,  which  will  be  found  in 
the  Appendix,  and  to  which  I  must  refer  the  reader. 
He  is  to  conceive  in  the  meanwhile  for  himself  Fleem- 
ing's  manifold  engagements:  his  service  on  the  Com- 
mittee on  Electrical  Standards,  his  lectures  on  electricity 
at  Chatham,  his  chair  at  the  London  University,  his 
partnership  with  Sir  William  Thomson  and  Mr.  Varley 
in  many  ingenious  patents,  his  growing  credit  with  en- 
gineers and  men  of  science;  and  he  is  to  bear  in  mind 
that  of  all  this  activity  and  acquist  of  reputation,  the 
immediate  profit  was  scanty.  Soon  after  his  marriage, 
Fleeming  had  left  the  service  of  Messrs.  Liddell  &  Gor- 
don, and  entered  into  a  general  engineering  partnership 
with  Mr.  Forde,  a  gentleman  in  a  good  way  of  busi- 
ness. It  was  a  fortunate  partnership  in  this,  that  the 
parties  retained  their  mutual  respect  unlessened  and 
separated  with  regret;  but  men's  affairs,  like  men,  have 
their  times  of  sickness,  and  by  one  of  these  unaccount- 
able variations,  for  hard  upon  ten  years  the  business 
was  disappointing  and  the  profits  meagre.  "  Inditing 
drafts  of  German  railways  which  will  never  get  made  ": 
it  is  thus  I  find  Fleeming,  not  without  a  touch  of  bitter- 
ness, describe  his  occupation.  Even  the  patents  hung 
fire  at  first.  There  was  no  salary  to  rely  on ;  children 

74 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

were  coming  and  growing  up ;  the  prospect  was  often 
anxious.  In  the  days  of  his  courtship,  Fleeming  had 
written  to  Miss  Austin  a  dissuasive  picture  of  the  trials 
of  poverty,  assuring  her  these  were  no  figments  but 
truly  bitter  to  support:  he  told  her  this,  he  wrote,  be- 
forehand, so  that  when  the  pinch  came  and  she  suffered, 
she  should  not  be  disappointed  in  herself  nor  tempted 
to  doubt  her  own  magnanimity:  a  letter  of  admirable 
wisdom  and  solicitude.  But  now  that  the  trouble  came, 
he  bore  it  very  lightly.  It  was  his  principle,  as  he  once 
prettily  expressed  it,  "  to  enjoy  each  day's  happiness,  as 
it  arises,  like  birds  or  children."  His  optimism,  if  driven 
out  at  the  door,  would  come  in  again  by  the  window; 
if  it  found  nothing  but  blackness  in  the  present,  would 
hit  upon  some  ground  of  consolation  in  the  future  or  the 
past.  And  his  courage  and  energy  were  indefatigable. 
In  the  year  1863,  soon  after  the  birth  of  their  first  son, 
they  moved  into  a  cottage  at  Claygate  near  Esher;  and 
about  this  time,  under  manifold  troubles  both  of  money 
and  health,  I  find  him  writing  from  abroad :  "The  coun- 
try will  give  us,  please  God,  health  and  strength.  I 
will  love  and  cherish  you  more  than  ever,  you  shall  go 
where  you  wish,  you  shall  receive  whom  you  wish  — 
and  as  for  money  you  shall  have  that  too.  I  cannot  be 
mistaken.  I  have  now  measured  myself  with  many 
men.  I  do  not  feel  weak,  I  do  not  feel  that  I  shall  fail. 
In  many  things  I  have  succeeded,  and  I  will  in  this. 
And  meanwhile  the  time  of  waiting,  which,  please 
Heaven,  shall  not  be  long,  shall  also  not  be  so  bitter. 
Well,  well,  I  promise  much,  and  do  not  know  at  this 
moment  how  you  and  the  dear  child  are.  If  he  is  but 
better,  courage,  my  girl,  for  I  see  light." 

75 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

This  cottage  at  Claygate  stood  just  without  the  vil- 
lage, well  surrounded  with  trees  and  commanding  a 
pleasant  view.  A  piece  of  the  garden  was  turfed  over 
to  form  a  croquet  green,  and  Fleeming  became  (  I  need 
scarce  say)  a  very  ardent  player.  He  grew  ardent,  too, 
in  gardening.  This  he  took  up  at  first  to  please  his 
wife,  having  no  natural  inclination;  but  he  had  no 
sooner  set  his  hand  to  it,  than,  like  everything  else  he 
touched,  it  became  with  him  a  passion.  He  budded 
roses,  he  potted  cuttings  in  the  coach-house;  if  there 
came  a  change  of  weather  at  night,  he  would  rise  out 
of  bed  to  protect  his  favourites ;  when  he  was  thrown 
with  a  dull  companion,  it  was  enough  for  him  to  dis- 
cover in  the  man  a  fellow  gardener;  on  his  travels,  he 
would  go  out  of  his  way  to  visit  nurseries  and  gather 
hints;  and  to  the  end  of  his  life,  after  other  occupations 
prevented  him  putting  his  own  hand  to  the  spade,  he 
drew  up  a  yearly  programme  for  his  gardener,  in  which 
all  details  were  regulated.  He  had  begun  by  this  time 
to  write.  His  paper  on  Darwin,  which  had  the  merit 
of  convincing  on  one  point  the  philosopher  himself,  had 
indeed  been  written  before  this  in  London  lodgings; 
but  his  pen  was  not  idle  at  Claygate;  and  it  was  here 
he  wrote  (among  other  things)  that  review  of  "  Fecun- 
dity, Fertility,  Sterility,  and  Allied  Topics/'  which 
Dr.  Matthews  Duncan  prefixed  by  way  of  introduction 
to  the  second  edition  of  the  work.  The  mere  act  of 
writing  seems  to  cheer  the  vanity  of  the  most  incom- 
petent; but  a  correction  accepted  by  Darwin,  and  a 
whole  review  borrowed  and  reprinted  by  Matthews 
Duncan,  are  compliments  of  a  rare  strain,  and  to  a  man 
still  unsuccessful  must  have  been  precious  indeed. 

76 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

There  was  yet  a  third  of  the  same  kind  in  store  for  him ; 
and  when  Munro  himself  owned  that  he  had  found  in- 
struction in  the  paper  on  Lucretius,  we  may  say  that 
Fleeming  had  been  crowned  in  the  capitol  of  reviewing. 

Croquet,  charades,  Christmas  magic  lanterns  for  the 
village  children,  an  amateur  concert  or  a  review  article 
in  the  evening;  plenty  of  hard  work  by  day;  regular 
visits  to  meetings  of  the  British  Association,  from  one 
of  which  I  find  him  characteristically  writing:  "I  can- 
not say  that  I  have  had  any  amusement  yet,  but  I  am 
enjoying  the  dulness  and  dry  bustle  of  the  whole 
thing;"  occasional  visits  abroad  on  business,  when  he 
would  find  the  time  to  glean  (as  I  have  said)  gardening 
hints  for  himself,  and  old  folk-songs  or  new  fashions 
of  dress  for  his  wife;  and  the  continual  study  and  care 
of  his  children:  these  were  the  chief  elements  of  his 
life.  Nor  were  friends  wanting.  Captain  and  Mrs. 
Jenkin,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Austin,  Clerk  Maxwell,  Miss  Bell 
of  Manchester,  and  others  came  to  them  on  visits.  Mr. 
Hertslet  of  the  Foreign  Office,  his  wife  and  his  daughter, 
were  neighbours  and  proved  kind  friends;  in  1867  the 
Howitts  came  to  Claygate  and  sought  the  society  of 
' '  the  two  bright,  clever  young  people ; " 1  and  in  a  house 
close  by,  Mr.  Frederick  Ricketts  came  to  live  with  his 
family.  Mr.  Ricketts  was  a  valued  friend  during  his 
short  life;  and  when  he  was  lost  with  every  circum- 
stance of  heroism  in  the  La  Plata,  Fleeming  mourned 
him  sincerely. 

I  think  I  shall  give  the  best  idea  of  Fleeming  in  this 
time  of  his  early  married  life,  by  a  few  sustained  ex- 

1  Reminiscences  of  My  Later  Life,  by  Mary  Howitt.  Good  Words, 
May,  1886. 

77 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

tracts  from  his  letters  to  his  wife,  while  she  was  absent 
on  a  visit  in  1864. 

"Nov.  n. — Sunday  was  too  wet  to  walk  to  Isle- 
worth,  for  which  I  was  sorry,  so  I  staid  and  went  to 
Church  and  thought  of  you  at  Ardwick  all  through  the 
Commandments,  and  heard  Dr. expound  in  a  re- 
markable way  a  prophecy  of  St.  Paul's  about  Roman 
Catholics,  which  mutatis  mutandis  would  do  very  well 
for  Protestants  in  some  parts.  Then  I  made  a  little 
nursery  of  Borecole  and  Enfield  market  cabbage,  grub- 
bing in  wet  earth  with  leggings  and  gray  coat  on. 
Then  I  tidied  up  the  coach-house  to  my  own  and  Chris- 
tine's admiration.  Then  encouraged  by  bouts-rimts  I 
wrote  you  a  copy  of  verses ;  high  time  I  think ;  I  shall 
just  save  my  tenth  year  of  knowing  my  lady-love  with- 
out inditing  poetry  or  rhymes  to  her. 

"Then  I  rummaged  over  the  box  with  my  father's 
letters  and  found  interesting  notes  from  myself.  One  I 
should  say  my  first  letter,  which  little  Austin  I  should 
say  would  rejoice  to  see  and  shall  see — with  a  drawing 
of  a  cottage  and  a  spirited  'cob.'  What  was  more  to 
the  purpose,  I  found  with  it  a  paste-cutter  which  Mary 
begged  humbly  for  Christine  and  I  generously  gave  this 
morning. 

"Then  I  read  some  of  Congreve.  There  are  admi- 
rable scenes  in  the  manner  of  Sheridan;  all  wit  and  no 
character,  or  rather  one  character  in  a  great  variety  of 
situations  and  scenes.  I  could  show  you  some  scenes, 
but  others  are  too  coarse  even  for  my  stomach  hardened 
by  a  course  of  French  novels. 

"  All  things  look  so  happy  for  the  rain. 

"Nov.  1 6. —  Verbenas  looking  well.  ...  I  am  but 

78 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

a  poor  creature  without  you ;  I  have  naturally  no  spirit 
or  fun  or  enterprise  in  me.  Only  a  kind  of  mechanical 
capacity  for  ascertaining  whether  two  really  is  half  four, 
etc. ;  but  when  you  are  near  me  I  can  fancy  that  I  too 
shine,  and  vainly  suppose  it  to  be  my  proper  light; 
whereas  by  my  extreme  darkness  when  you  are  not  by, 
it  clearly  can  only  be  by  a  reflected  brilliance  that  I  seem 
aught  but  dull.  Then  for  the  moral  part  of  me:  if  it 
were  not  tor  you  and  little  Odden,  I  should  feel  by  no 
means  sure  that  I  had  any  affection  power  in  me.  .  .  . 
Even  the  muscular  me  suffers  a  sad  deterioration  in  your 
absence.  I  don't  get  up  when  I  ought  to,  I  have  snoozed 
in  my  chair  after  dinner;  I  do  not  go  in  at  the  garden 
with  my  wonted  vigour,  and  feel  ten  times  as  tired  as 
usual  with  a  walk  in  your  absence;  so  you  see,  when 
you  are  not  by,  I  am  a  person  without  ability,  affections 
or  vigour,  but  droop  dull,  selfish,  and  spiritless;  can 
you  wonder  that  I  love  you  ? 

"  Nov.  17. — .  .  .  I  am  very  glad  we  married  young. 
I  would  not  have  missed  these  five  years,  no,  not  for 
any  hopes;  they  are  my  own. 

"  Nov.  30. —  I  got  through  my  Chatham  lecture  very 
fairly  though  almost  all  my  apparatus  went  astray.  I 
dined  at  the  mess,  and  got  home  to  Isleworth  the  same 
evening;  your  father  very  kindly  sitting  up  for  me. 

"Dec.  i. —  Back  at  dear  Claygate.  Many  cuttings 
flourish,  especially  those  which  do  honour  to  your  hand. 
Your  Californian  annuals  are  up  and  about.  Badger  is 
fat,  the  grass  green.  .  .  . 

"  Dec.  3. —  Odden  will  not  talk  of  you,  while  you  are 
away,  having  inherited,  as  I  suspect,  his  father's  way  of 
declining  to  consider  a  subject  which  is  painful,  as  your 

79 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

absence  is.  ...  I  certainly  should  like  to  learn  Greek 
and  1  think  it  would  be  a  capital  pastime  for  the  long 
winter  evenings.  .  .  .  How  things  are  misrated!  I  de- 
clare croquet  is  a  noble  occupation  compared  to  the  pur- 
suits of  business  men.  As  for  so-called  idleness  —  that 
is,  one  form  of  it —  I  vow  it  is  the  noblest  aim  of  man. 
When  idle,  one  can  love,  one  can  be  good,  feel  kindly  to 
all,  devote  oneself  to  others,  be  thankful  for  existence, 
educate  one's  mind,  one's  heart,  one's  body.  When 
busy,  as  I  am  busy  now  or  have  been  busy  to-day,  one 
feels  just  as  you  sometimes  felt  when  you  were  too 
busy,  owing  to  want  of  servants. 

"Dec.  5. —  On  Sunday  I  was  at  Isleworth,  chiefly 
engaged  in  playing  with  Odden.  We  had  the  most  en- 
chanting walk  together  through  the  brickfields.  It  was 
very  muddy,  and,  as  he  remarked,  not  fit  for  Nanna, 
but  fit  for  us  men.  The  dreary  waste  of  bared  earth, 
thatched  sheds  and  standing  water,  was  a  paradise  to 
him;  and  when  we  walked  up  planks  to  deserted  mix- 
ing and  crushing  mills,  and  actually  saw  where  the  clay 
was  stirred  with  long  iron  prongs,  and  chalk  or  lime 
ground  with  'a  tind  of  a  mill,'  his  expression  of  con- 
tentment and  triumphant  heroism  knew  no  limit  to  its 
beauty.  Of  course  on  returning  I  found  Mrs.  Austin 
looking  out  at  the  door  in  an  anxious  manner,  and 
thinking  we  had  been  out  quite  long  enough.  ...  I 
am  reading  Don  Quixote  chiefly  and  am  his  fervent  ad- 
mirer, but  I  am  so  sorry  he  did  not  place  his  affections 
on  a  Dulcinea  of  somewhat  worthier  stamp.  In  fact  I 
think  there  must  be  a  mistake  about  it.  Don  Quixote 
might  and  would  serve  his  lady  in  most  preposterous 
fashion,  but  I  am  sure  he  would  have  chosen  a  lady  of 

80 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

merit.  He  imagined  her  to  be  such  no  doubt,  and  drew 
a  charming  picture  of  her  occupations  by  the  banks  of 
the  river;  but  in  his  other  imaginations  there  was  some 
kind  of  peg  on  which  to  hang  the  false  costumes  he 
created ;  windmills  are  big,  and  wave  their  arms  like 
giants ;  sheep  in  the  distance  are  somewhat  like  an  army ; 
a  little  boat  on  the  river-side  must  look  much  the  same 
whether  enchanted  or  belonging  to  millers;  but  except 
that  Dulcinea  is  a  woman,  she  bears  no  resemblance  at 
all  to  the  damsel  of  his  imagination." 

At  the  time  of  these  letters,  the  oldest  son  only  was 
born  to  them.  In  September  of  the  next  year,  with  the 
birth  of  the  second,  Charles  Frewen,  there  befell  Fleem- 
ing  a  terrible  alarm  and  what  proved  to  be  a  lifelong 
misfortune.  Mrs.  Jenkin  was  taken  suddenly  and  alarm- 
ingly ill ;  Fleeming  ran  a  matter  of  two  miles  to  fetch 
the  doctor,  and  drenched  with  sweat  as  he  was,  re- 
turned with  him  at  once  in  an  open  gig.  On  their  ar- 
rival at  the  house,  Mrs.  Jenkin  half  unconsciously  took 
and  kept  hold  of  her  husband's  hand.  By  the  doctor's 
orders,  windows  and  doors  were  set  open  to  create  a 
thorough  draught,  and  the  patient  was  on  no  account  to 
be  disturbed.  Thus,  then,  did  Fleeming  pass  the  whole 
of  that  night,  crouching  on  the  floor  in  the  draught,  and 
not  daring  to  move  lest  he  should  wake  the  sleeper. 
He  had  never  been  strong;  energy  had  stood  him  in- 
stead of  vigour;  and  the  result  of  that  night's  exposure 
was  flying  rheumatism  varied  by  settled  sciatica. 
Sometimes  it  quite  disabled  him,  sometimes  it  was  less 
acute ;  but  he  was  rarely  free  from  it  until  his  death.  I 
knew  him  for  many  years ;  for  more  than  ten  we  were 
closely  intimate ;  I  have  lived  with  him  for  weeks ;  and 

Si 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

during  all  this  time,  he  only  once  referred  to  his  in- 
firmity and  then  perforce  as  an  excuse  for  some  trouble 
he  put  me  to,  and  so  slightly  worded  that  I  paid  no 
heed.  This  is  a  good  measure  of  his  courage  under 
sufferings  of  which  none  but  the  untried  will  think 
lightly.  And  I  think  it  worth  noting  how  this  optimist 
was  acquainted  with  pain.  It  will  seem  strange  only 
to  the  superficial.  The  disease  of  pessimism  springs 
never  from  real  troubles,  which  it  braces  men  to  bear, 
which  it  delights  men  to  bear  well.  Nor  does  it  readily 
spring  at  all,  in  minds  that  have  conceived  of  life  as  a 
field  of  ordered  duties,  not  as  a  chase  in  which  to  hunt 
for  gratifications.  "We  are  not  here  to  be  happy,  but 
to  be  good  ";  I  wish  he  had  mended  the  phrase:  "  We 
are  not  here  to  be  happy,  but  to  try  to  be  good,"  comes 
nearer  the  modesty  of  truth.  With  such  old-fashioned 
morality,  it  is  possible  to  get  through  life,  and  see  the 
worst  of  it,  and  feel  some  of  the  worst  of  it,  and  still 
acquiesce  piously  and  even  gladly  in  man's  fate.  Feel 
some  of  the  worst  of  it,  I  say ;  for  some  of  the  rest  of 
the  worst  is,  by  this  simple  faith,  excluded. 

It  was  in  the  year  1868,  that  the  clouds  finally  rose. 
The  business  in  partnership  with  Mr.  Forde  began  sud- 
denly to  pay  well;  about  the  same  time  the  patents 
showed  themselves  a  valuable  property;  and  but  a  little 
after,  Fleeming  was  appointed  to  the  new  chair  of  en- 
gineering in  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  Thus,  almost 
at  once,  pecuniary  embarrassments  passed  for  ever  out 
of  his  life.  Here  is  his  own  epilogue  to  the  time  at 
Claygate,  and  his  anticipations  of  the  future  in  Edin- 
burgh. 

"  .  .  .  .  The  dear  old  house  at  Claygate  is  not  let 
82 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENK1N 

and  the  pretty  garden  a  mass  of  weeds.  I  feel  rather  as 
if  we  had  behaved  unkindly  to  them.  We  were  very 
happy  there,  but  now  that  it  is  over  I  am  conscious  of 
the  weight  of  anxiety  as  to  money  which  I  bore  all  the 
time.  With  you  in  the  garden,  with  Austin  in  the 
coach-house,  with  pretty  songs  in  the  little,  low  white 
room,  with  the  moonlight  in  the  dear  room  up-stairs, 
ah,  it  was  perfect;  but  the  long  walk,  wondering, 
pondering,  fearing,  scheming,  and  the  dusty  jolting  rail- 
way, and  the  horrid  fusty  office  with  its  endless  disap- 
pointments, they  are  well  gone.  It  is  well  enough  to 
fight  and  scheme  and  bustle  about  in  the  eager  crowd 
here  [in  London]  for  a  while  now  and  then,  but  not  for 
a  lifetime.  What  I  have  now  is  just  perfect.  Study  for 
winter,  action  for  summer,  lovely  country  for  recrea- 
tion, a  pleasant  town  for  talk " 


CHAPTER  V 

1858—1873 

Notes  of  Telegraph  Voyages. 

But  it  is  now  time  to  see  Jenkin  at  his  life's  work.  I 
have  before  me  certain  imperfect  series  of  letters  written, 
as  he  says,  "at  hazard,  for  one  does  not  know  at  the 
time  what  is  important  and  what  is  not":  the  earlier 
addressed  to  Miss  Austin,  after  the  betrothal ;  the  later 
to  Mrs.  Jenkin  the  young  wife.  I  should  premise  that  I 
have  allowed  myself  certain  editorial  freedoms,  leaving 
out  and  splicing  together  much  as  he  himself  did  with 
the  Bona  cable:  thus  edited  the  letters  speak  for  them- 
selves, and  will  fail  to  interest  none  who  love  adventure 
or  activity.  Addressed  as  they  were  to  her  whom  he 
called  his  "  dear  engineering  pupil,"  they  give  a  picture 
of  his  work  so  clear  that  a  child  may  understand,  and 
so  attractive  that  I  am  half  afraid  their  publication  may 
prove  harmful,  and  still  further  crowd  the  ranks  of  a 
profession  already  overcrowded.  But  their  most  en- 
gaging quality  is  the  picture  of  the  writer;  with  his  in- 
domitable self-confidence  and  courage,  his  readiness  in 
every  pinch  of  circumstance  or  change  of  plan,  and  his 
ever  fresh  enjoyment  of  the  whole  web  of  human  expe- 
rience, nature,  adventure,  science,  toil  and  rest,  society 
and  solitude.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  the 
writer  of  these  buoyant  pages  was,  even  while  he  wrote, 

84 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEM1NG  JENKIN 

harassed  by  responsibility,  stinted  in  sleep,  and  often 
struggling  with  the  prostration  of  sea-sickness.  To 
this  last  enemy,  which  he  never  overcame,  I  have  omit- 
ted, in  my  search  after  condensation,  a  good  many  ref- 
erences; if  they  were  all  left,  such  was  the  man's  tem- 
per, they  would  not  represent  one  hundreth  part  of 
what  he  suffered,  for  he  was  never  given  to  complaint. 
But  indeed  he  had  met  this  ugly  trifle,  as  he  met  every 
thwart  circumstance  of  life,  with  a  certain  pleasure  of 
pugnacity;  and  suffered  it  not  to  check  him,  whe- 
ther in  the  exercise  of  his  profession  or  the  pursuit  of 
amusement 

I 

"Birkenhead:  April  18,  1858. 

"  Well,  you  should  know,  Mr. ,  having  a  contract 

to  lay  down  a  submarine  telegraph  from  Sardinia  to 
Africa,  failed  three  times  in  the  attempt.  The  distance 
from  land  to  land  is  about  140  miles.  On  the  first  oc- 
casion, after  proceeding  some  70  miles,  he  had  to  cut 
the  cable  —  the  cause  I  forget:  he  tried  again,  same  re- 
sult; then  picked  up  about  20  miles  of  the  lost  cable, 
spliced  on  a  new  piece,  and  very  nearly  got  across  that 
time,  but  ran  short  of  cable,  and  when  but  a  few  miles 
off  Galita  in  very  deep  water,  had  to  telegraph  to  Lon- 
don for  more  cable  to  be  manufactured  and  sent  out 
whilst  he  tried  to  stick  to  the  end:  for  five  days,  I 
think,  he  lay  there  sending  and  receiving  messages,  but 

heavy  weather  coming  on  the  cable  parted  and  Mr. 

went  home  in  despair  —  at  least  I  should  think  so. 

"  He  then  applied  to  those  eminent  engineers,  R.  S. 
Newall  &  Co.,  who  made  and  laid  down  a  cable  for  him 

85 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

last  autumn  —  Fleeming  Jenkin  (at  the  time  in  consid- 
erable mental  agitation)  having  the  honour  of  fitting 
out  the  Elba  for  that  purpose."  [On  this  occasion,  the 
Elba  has  no  cable  to  lay;  but]  "  is  going  out  in  the  be- 
ginning of  May  to  endeavour  to  fish  up  the  cables  Mr. 

lost.  There  are  two  ends  at  or  near  the  shore :  the  third 
will  probably  not  be  found  within  20  miles  from  land. 
One  of  these  ends  will  be  passed  over  a  very  big  pulley 
or  sheave  at  the  bows,  passed  six  times  round  a  big 
barrel  or  drum ;  which  will  be  turned  round  by  a  steam 
engine  on  deck,  and  thus  wind  up  the  cable,  while  the 
Elba  slowly  steams  ahead.  The  cable  is  not  wound 
round  and  round  the  drum  as  your  silk  is  wound  on  its 
reel,  but  on  the  contrary  never  goes  round  more  than 
six  times,  going  off  at  one  side  as  it  comes  on  at  the 
other,  and  going  down  into  the  hold  of  the  Elba  to  be 
coiled  along  in  a  big  coil  or  skein. 

"  I  went  down  to  Gateshead  to  discuss  with  Mr. 
Newall  the  form  which  this  tolerably  simple  idea  should 
take,  and  have  been  busy  since  I  came  here  drawing, 
ordering,  and  putting  up  the  machinery  —  uninterfered 
with,  thank  goodness,  by  any  one.  I  own  I  like  re- 
sponsibility; it  flatters  one,  and  then,  your  father  might 
say,  I  have  more  to  gain  than  to  lose.  Moreover  I  do 
like  this  bloodless,  painless  combat  with  wood  and  iron, 
forcing  the  stubborn  rascals  to  do  my  will,  licking  the 
clumsy  cubs  into  an  active  shape,  seeing  the  child  of  to- 
day's thought  working  to-morrow  in  full  vigour  at  his 
appointed  task. 

"May  12. 

"By  dint  of  bribing,  bullying,  cajoling,  and  going 
day  by  day  to  see  the  state  of  things  ordered,  all  my 

86 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

work  is  very  nearly  ready  now;  but  those  who  have 
neglected  these  precautions  are  of  course  disappointed. 

Five  hundred  fathoms  of  chain  [were]  ordered  by 

some  three  weeks  since,  to  be  ready  by  the  loth  with- 
out fail;  he  sends  for  it  to-day — 150  fathoms  all  they 
can  let  us  have  by  the  I5th — and  how  the  rest  is  to  be 
got,  who  knows  ?  He  ordered  a  boat  a  month  since 
and  yesterday  we  could  see  nothing  of  her  but  the  keel 
and  about  two  planks.  I  could  multiply  instances 
without  end.  At  first  one  goes  nearly  mad  with  vexa- 
tion at  these  things;  but  one  finds  so  soon  that  they 
are  the  rule,  that  then  it  becomes  necessary  to  feign  a 
rage  one  does  not  feel.  I  look  upon  it  as  the  natural 
order  of  things,  that  if  1  order  a  thing,  it  will  not  be 
done — if  by  accident  it  gets  done,  it  will  certainly  be 
done  wrong:  the  only  remedy  being  to  watch  the  per- 
formance at  every  stage. 

"To-day  was  a  grand  field-day.  I  had  steam  up 
and  tried  the  engine  against  pressure  or  resistance. 
One  part  of  the  machinery  is  driven  by  a  belt  or  strap 
of  leather.  I  always  had  my  doubts  this  might  slip ; 
and  so  it  did,  wildly.  I  had  made  provision  for  doub- 
ling it,  putting  on  two  belts  instead  of  one.  No  use  — 
off  they  went,  slipping  round  and  off  the  pulleys  instead 
of  driving  the  machinery.  Tighten  them  —  no  use. 
More  strength  there  —  down  with  the  lever  —  smash 
something,  tear  the  belts,  but  get  them  tight — now 
then,  stand  clear,  on  with  the  steam; — and  the  belts 
slip  away  as  if  nothing  held  them.  Men  begin  to  look 
queer;  the  circle  of  quidnuncs  make  sage  remarks. 
Once  more  —  no  use.  I  begin  to  know  I  ought  to  feel 
sheepish  and  beat,  but  somehow  I  feel  cocky  instead. 

87 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

I  laugh  and  say,  'Well,  I  am  bound  to  break  some- 
thing down' — and  suddenly  see.  'Oho,  there's  the 
place;  get  weight  on  there,  and  the  belt  won't  slip.' 
With  much  labour,  on  go  the  belts  again.  '  Now  then, 
a  spar  thro'  there  and  six  men's  weight  on;  mind 
you're  not  carried  away.' — 'Ay,  ay,  sir.'  But  evi- 
dently no  one  believes  in  the  plan.  '  Hurrah,  round 
she  goes  —  stick  to  your  spar.  All  right,  shut  off 
steam.'  And  the  difficulty  is  vanquished. 

"This  or  such  as  this  (not  always  quite  so  bad)  oc- 
curs hour  after  hour,  while  five  hundred  tons  of  coal 
are  rattling  down  into  the  holds  and  bunkers,  riveters 
are  making  their  infernal  row  all  round,  and  riggers 
bend  the  sails  and  fit  the  rigging:  —  a  sort  of  Pandemo- 
nium, it  appeared  to  young  Mrs.  Newall,  who  was  here 
on  Monday  and  half-choked  with  guano;  but  it  suits 
the  likes  o'  me. 

"S.  S.  Elba,  River  Mersey  :  May  17. 

"We  are  delayed  in  the  river  by  some  of  the  ship's 
papers  not  being  ready.  Such  a  scene  at  the  dock 
gates.  Not  a  sailor  will  join  till  the  last  moment;  and 
then,  just  as  the  ship  forges  ahead  through  the  narrow 
pass,  beds  and  baggage  fly  on  board,  the  men  half  tipsy 
clutch  at  the  rigging,  the  captain  swears,  the  women 
scream  and  sob,  the  crowd  cheer  and  laugh,  while  one 
or  two  pretty  little  girls  stand  still  and  cry  outright,  re- 
gardless of  all  eyes. 

"These  two  days  of  comparative  peace  have  quite 
set  me  on  my  legs  again.  I  was  getting  worn  and 
weary  with  anxiety  and  work.  As  usual  I  have  been 
delighted  with  my  shipwrights.  I  gave  them  some 

88 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

beer  on  Saturday,  making  a  short  oration.  To-day 
when  they  went  ashore  and  I  came  on  board,  they  gave 
three  cheers,  whether  for  me  or  the  ship  I  hardly  know, 
but  I  had  just  bid  them  good-bye,  and  the  ship  was 
out  of  hail ;  but  I  was  startled  and  hardly  liked  to  claim 
the  compliment  by  acknowledging  it. 

"S.S.  Elba:  May  25. 

"My  first  intentions  of  a  long  journal  have  been 
fairly  frustrated  by  sea-sickness.  On  Tuesday  last 
about  noon  we  started  from  the  Mersey  in  very  dirty 
weather,  and  were  hardly  out  of  the  river  when  we 
met  a  gale  from  the  southwest  and  a  heavy  sea,  both 
right  in  our  teeth ;  and  the  poor  Elba  had  a  sad  shaking. 
Had  I  not  been  very  sea-sick,  the  sight  would  have 
been  exciting  enough,  as  I  sat  wrapped  in  my  oilskins 
on  the  bridge ;  [but]  in  spite  of  all  my  efforts  to  talk,  to 
eat,  and  to  grin,  I  soon  collapsed  into  imbecility;  and  I 
was  heartily  thankful  towards  evening  to  find  myself 
in  bed. 

"Next  morning,  I  fancied  it  grew  quieter  and,  as  I 
listened,  heard,  '  I  et  go  the  anchor,'  whereon  I  con- 
cluded we  had  run  into  Holyhead  Harbour,  as  was  in- 
deed the  case.  All  that  day  we  lay  in  Holyhead,  but  I 
could  neither  read  nor  write  nor  draw.  The  captain  of 
another  steamer  which  had  put  in  came  on  board,  and 
we  all  went  for  a  walk  on  the  hill;  and  in  the  evening 
there  was  an  exchange  of  presents.  We  gave  some 
tobacco  I  think,  and  received  a  cat,  two  pounds  of  fresh 
butter,  a  Cumberland  ham,  Westward  Ho!  and  Thack- 
eray's English  Humorists.  I  was  astonished  at  receiving 
two  such  fair  books  from  the  captain  of  a  little  coasting 

89 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

screw.  Our  captain  said  he  [the  captain  of  the  screw] 
had  plenty  of  money,  five  or  six  hundred  a  year  at 
least. — '  What  in  the  world  makes  him  go  rolling 
about  in  such  a  craft,  then  ? '  — '  Why,  I  fancy  he's 
reckless;  he's  desperate  in  love  with  that  girl  I  men- 
tioned, and  she  won't  look  at  him.'  Our  honest,  fat, 
old  captain  says  this  very  grimly  in  his  thick,  broad 
voice. 

"  My  head  won't  stand  much  writing  yet,  so  I  will 
run  up  and  take  a  look  at  the  blue  night  sky  off  the 
coast  of  Portugal. 

"  May  26. 

"A  nice  lad  of  some  two  and  twenty,  A by 

name,  goes  out  in  a  nondescript  capacity  as  part  purser, 

part  telegraph  clerk,  part  generally  useful  person.    A 

was  a  great  comfort  during  the  miseries  [of  the  gale] ; 
for  when  with  a  dead  head  wind  and  a  heavy  sea,  plates, 
books,  papers,  stomachs  were  being  rolled  about  in  sad 
confusion,  we  generally  managed  to  lie  on  our  backs, 
and  grin,  and  try  discordant  staves  of  the  Flowers  of  the 
Forest  and  the  Low-bached  Car.  We  could  sing  and 

laugh,  when  we  could  do  nothing  else;  though  A 

was  ready  to  swear  after  each  fit  was  past,  that  that 
was  the  first  time  he  had  felt  anything,  and  at  this  mo- 
ment would  declare  in  broad  Scotch  that  he'd  never 
been  sick  at  all,  qualifying  the  oath  with  '  except  for  a 
minute  now  and  then.'  He  brought  a  cornet-^-piston 
to  practise  on,  having  had  three  weeks'  instruction  on 
that  melodious  instrument;  and  if  you  could  hear  the 
horrid  sounds  that  come!  especially  at  heavy  rolls. 
When  I  hint  he  is  not  improving,  there  comes  a  con- 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

fession :  '  I  don't  feel  quite  right  yet,  you  see! '  But  he 
blows  away  manfully,  and  in  self-defence  I  try  to  roar 
the  tune  louder. 

1 1 : 30  P.  M. 

"  Long  past  Cape  St.  Vincent  now.  We  went 
within  about  400  yards  of  the  cliffs  and  lighthouse  in  a 
calm  moonlight,  with  porpoises  springing  from  the  sea, 
the  men  crooning  long  ballads  as  they  lay  idle  on  the 
forecastle,  and  the  sails  flapping  uncertain  on  the  yards. 
As  we  passed,  there  came  a  sudden  breeze  from  land, 
hot  and  heavy  scented;  and  now  as  I  write  its  warm 
rich  flavour  contrasts  strongly  with  the  salt  air  we  have 
been  breathing. 

"I  paced  the  deck  with  H ,  the  second  mate, 

and  in  the  quiet  night  drew  a  confession  that  he  was 
engaged  to  be  married,  and  gave  him  a  world  of  good 
advice.  He  is  a  very  nice,  active,  little  fellow,  with  a 
broad  Scotch  tongue  and  '  dirty,  little  rascal '  appear- 
ance. He  had  a  sad  disappointment  at  starting.  Hav- 
ing been  second  mate  on  the  last  voyage,  when  the  first 
mate  was  discharged,  he  took  charge  of  the  Elba  all  the 
time  she  was  in  port,  and  of  course  looked  forward  to 
being  chief  mate  this  trip.  Liddell  promised  him  the 
post.  He  had  not  authority  to  do  this;  and  when 
Newall  heard  of  it,  he  appointed  another  man.  Fancy 

poor  H having  told  all  the  men  and  most  of  all,  his 

sweetheart!  But  more  remains  behind;  for  when  it 

came  to  signing  articles,  it  turned  out  that  O ,  the 

new  first  mate,  had  not  a  certificate  which  allowed  him 
to  have  a  second  mate.  Then  came  rather  an  affecting 

scene.  For  H proposed  to  sign  as  chief  (he  having 

9' 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

the  necessary  higher  certificate)  but  to  act  as  second  for 

the  lower  wages.     At  first  O would  not  give  in, 

but  offered  to  go  as  second.    But  our  brave  little  H 

said,  no:  'The  owners  wished  Mr.  O to  be  chief 

mate,  and  chief  mate  he  should  be.'  So  he  carried  the 
day,  signed  as  chief  and  acts  as  second.  Shakespeare 
and  Byron  are  his  favourite  books.  I  walked  into  Byron 
a  little,  but  can  well  understand  his  stirring  up  a  rough, 
young  sailor's  romance.  I  lent  him  Westward  Ho!  from 
the  cabin;  but  to  my  astonishment  he  did  not  care 
much  for  it;  he  said  it  smelt  of  the  shilling  railway 
library;  perhaps  I  had  praised  it  too  highly.  Scott  is 
his  standard  for  novels.  I  am  very  happy  to  find  good 

taste  by  no  means  confined  to  gentlemen,  H having 

no  pretensions  to  that  title.  He  is  a  man  after  my  own 
heart. 

"Then  I  came  down  to  the  cabin  and  heard  young 

A 's  schemes  for  the  future.    His  highest  picture  is 

a  commission  in  the  Prince  of  Vizianagram's  irregular 
horse.  His  eldest  brother  is  tutor  to  his  Highness's 
children,  and  grand  vizier,  and  magistrate,  and  on  his 
Highness's  household  staff,  and  seems  to  be  one  of  those 
Scotch  adventurers  one  meets  with  and  hears  of  in 
queer  berths  —  raising  cavalry,  building  palaces,  and 
using  some  petty  Eastern  king's  long  purse  with  their 
long  Scotch  heads. 

"Off  Bona:/«n/4. 

"  I  read  your  letter  carefully,  leaning  back  in  a  Mal- 
tese boat  to  present  the  smallest  surface  of  my  body  to 
a  grilling  sun,  and  sailing  from  the  Elba  to  Cape  Ham- 
rah,  about  three  miles  distant.  How  we  fried  and 

92 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

sighed !  At  last,  we  reached  land  under  Fort  Geneva, 
and  I  was  carried  ashore  pick-a-back,  and  plucked  the 
first  flower  I  saw  for  Annie.  It  was  a  strange  scene, 
far  more  novel  than  I  had  imagined:  the  high,  steep 
banks  covered  with  rich,  spicy  vegetation  of  which  I 
hardly  knew  one  plant.  The  dwarf  palm  with  fan-like 
leaves,  growing  about  two  feet  high,  formed  the  staple 
of  the  verdure.  As  we  brushed  through  them,  the 
gummy  leaves  of  a  cistus  stuck  to  the  clothes;  and  with 
its  small  white  flower  and  yellow  heart,  stood  for  our 
English  dog-rose.  In  place  of  heather,  we  had  myrtle 
and  lentisque  with  leaves  somewhat  similar.  That  large 
bulb  with  long  flat  leaves  ?  Do  not  touch  it  if  your 
hands  are  cut;  the  Arabs  use  it  as  blisters  for  their 
horses.  Is  that  the  same  sort  ?  No,  take  that  one  up; 
it  is  the  bulb  of  a  dwarf  palm,  each  layer  of  the  onion 
peels  off,  brown  and  netted,  like  the  outside  of  a  cocoa- 
nut.  It  is  a  clever  plant  that ;  from  the  leaves  we  get  a 
vegetable  horsehair: — and  eat  the  bottom  of  the  centre 
spike.  All  the  leaves  you  pull  have  the  same  aromatic 
scent.  But  here  a  little  patch  of  cleared  ground  shows 
old  friends,  who  seem  to  cling  by  abused  civilization : — 
fine,  hardy  thistles,  one  of  them  bright  yellow,  though ; 
—  honest,  Scotch-looking,  large  daisies  or  go  wans; — 
potatoes  here  and  there,  looking  but  sickly;  and  dark 
sturdy  fig-trees  looking  cool  and  at  their  ease  in  the 
burning  sun. 

"Here  we  are  at  Fort  Geneva,  crowning  the  little 
point,  a  small  old  building,  due  to  my  old  Genoese  ac- 
quaintance who  fought  and  traded  bravely  once  upon  a 
time.  A  broken  cannon  of  theirs  forms  the  threshold: 
and  through  a  dark,  low  arch,  we  enter  upon  broad 

93 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

terraces  sloping  to  the  centre,  from  which  rain  water 
may  collect  and  run  into  that  well.  Large-breeched 
French  troopers  lounge  about  and  are  most  civil;  and 
the  whole  party  sit  down  to  breakfast  in  a  little  white- 
washed room,  from  the  door  of  which  the  long  moun- 
tain coastline  and  the  sparkling  sea  show  of  an  impos- 
sible blue  through  the  openings  of  a  white-washed 
rampart.  I  try  a  sea-egg,  one  of  those  prickly  fellows 

—  sea-urchins  they  are  called  sometimes;  the  shell  is  of 
a  lovely  purple,  and  when  opened,  there  are  rays  of 
yellow  adhering  to  the  inside;  these  I  eat,  but  they  are 
very  fishy. 

"  We  are  silent  and  shy  of  one  another,  and  soon  go 
out  to  watch  while  turbaned,  blue-breeched,  barelegged 
Arabs  dig  holes  for  the  land  telegraph  posts  on  the  fol- 
lowing principle:  one  man  takes  a  pick  and  bangs  lazily 
at  the  hard  earth;  when  a  little  is  loosened,  his  mate 
with  a  small  spade  lifts  it  on  one  side;  and  da  capo. 
They  have  regular  features  and  look  quite  in  place 
among  the  palms.  Our  English  workmen  screw  the 
earthenware  insulators  on  the  posts,  strain  the  wire, 
and  order  Arabs  about  by  the  generic  term  of  Johnny.  I 

find  W has  nothing  for  me  to  do,  and  that  in  fact  no 

one  has  anything  to  do.  Some  instruments  for  testing 
have  stuck  at  Lyons,  some  at  Cagliari ;  and  nothing  can 
be  done  —  or  at  any  rate,  is  done.  I  wander  about, 
thinking  of  you  and  staring  at  big,  green  grasshoppers 

—  locusts,  some  people  call  them  —  and  smelling  the 
rich  brushwood.     There  was  nothing  for  a  pencil  to 
sketch,  and  I  soon  got  tired  of  this  work,  though  I 
have  paid  willingly  much  money  for  far  less  strange 
and  lovely  sights. 

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"  Off  Cape  Spartivento :  June  8. 

"  At  two  this  morning,  we  left  Cagliari;  at  five  cast 
anchor  here.  I  got  up  and  began  preparing  for  the 
final  trial;  and  shortly  afterwards  every  one  else  of  note 
on  board  went  ashore  to  make  experiments  on  the  state 
of  the  cable,  leaving  me  with  the  prospect  of  beginning 
to  lift  at  12  o'clock.  I  was  not  ready  by  that  time;  but 
the  experiments  were  not  concluded  and  moreover  the 
cable  was  found  to  be  imbedded  some  four  or  five  feet 
in  sand,  so  that  the  boat  could  not  bring  off  the  end. 
At  three,  Messrs.  Liddell,  &c.,  came  on  board  in  good 
spirits,  having  found  two  wires  good  or  in  such  a  state 
as  permitted  messages  to  be  transmitted  freely.  The 
boat  now  went  to  grapple  for  the  cable  some  way  from 
shore  while  the  Elba  towed  a  small  lateen  craft  which 
was  to  take  back  the  consul  to  Cagliari  some  distance  on 
its  way.  On  our  return  we  found  the  boat  had  been 
unsuccessful;  she  was  allowed  to  drop  astern,  while  we 
grappled  for  the  cable  in  the  Elba  [without  more  suc- 
cess]. The  coast  is  a  low  mountain  range  covered  with 
brushwood  or  heather — pools  of  water  and  a  sandy 
beach  at  their  feet.  I  have  not  yet  been  ashore,  my 
hands  having  been  very  full  all  day. 

"June  9. 

"Grappling  for  the  cable  outside  the  bank  had  been 
voted  too  uncertain ;  [and  the  day  was  spent  in]  efforts 
to  pull  the  cable  off  through  the  sand  which  has  accu- 
mulated over  it.  By  getting  the  cable  tight  on  to  the 
boat,  and  letting  the  swell  pitch  her  about  till  it  got 
slack,  and  then  tightening  again  with  blocks  and  pul- 
leys, we  managed  to  get  out  from  the  beach  towards 

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the  ship  at  the  rate  of  about  twenty  yards  an  hour. 
When  they  had  got  about  100  yards  from  shore,  we 
ran  round  in  the  Elba  to  try  and  help  them,  letting  go 
the  anchor  in  the  shallowest  possible  water;  this  was 
about  sunset.  Suddenly  some  one  calls  out  he  sees  the 
cable  at  the  bottom ;  there  it  was  sure  enough,  appar- 
ently wriggling  about  as  the  waves  rippled.  Great  ex- 
citement; still  greater  when  we  find  our  own  anchor  is 
foul  of  it  and  has  been  the  means  of  bringing  it  to  light. 
We  let  go  a  grapnel,  get  the  cable  clear  of  the  anchor 
on  to  the  grapnel  —  the  captain  in  an  agony  lest  we 
should  drift  ashore  meanwhile  —  hand  the  grappling 
line  into  the  big  boat,  steam  out  far  enough,  and  an- 
chor again.  A  little  more  work  and  one  end  of  the 
cable  is  up  over  the  bows  round  my  drum.  I  go  to  my 
engine  and  we  start  hauling  in.  All  goes  pretty  well, 
but  it  is  quite  dark.  Lamps  are  got  at  last,  and  men 
arranged.  We  go  on  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  so  from 
shore  and  then  stop  at  about  half-past  nine  with  orders 
to  be  up  at  three.  Grand  work  at  last!  A  number  of 
the  Saturday  Review  here ;  it  reads  so  hot  and  feverish, 
so  tomblike  and  unhealthy,  in  the  midst  of  dear  Na- 
ture's hills  and  sea,  with  good  wholesome  work  to  do. 
Pray  that  all  go  well  to-morrow. 

"June  10. 

"Thank  heaven  for  a  most  fortunate  day.  At  three 
o'clock  this  morning  in  a  damp,  chill  mist  all  hands 
were  roused  to  work.  With  a  small  delay,  for  one  or 
two  improvements  I  had  seen  to  be  necessary  last  night, 
the  engine  started  and  since  that  time  I  do  not  think 
there  has  been  half  an  hour's  stoppage.  A  rope  to 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

splice,  a  block  to  change,  a  wheel  to  oil,  an  old  rusted 
anchor  to  disengage  from  the  cable  which  brought  it 
up,  these  have  been  our  only  obstructions.  Sixty, 
seventy,  eighty,  a  hundred,  a  hundred  and  twenty 
revolutions  at  last,  my  little  engine  tears  away.  The 
even  black  rope  comes  straight  out  of  the  blue  heaving 
water;  passes  slowly  round  an  open-hearted,  good- 
iempered  looking  pulley,  five  feet  diameter;  aft  past  a 
vicious  nipper,  to  bring  all  up  should  anything  go 
wrong;  through  a  gentle  guide;  on  to  a  huge  bluff 
drum,  who  wraps  him  round  his  body  and  says  '  Come 
you  must,'  as  plain  as  drum  can  speak:  the  chattering 
pawls  say  'I  've  got  him,  I  've  got  him,  he  can't  get 
back;'  whilst  black  cable,  much  slacker  and  easier  in 
mind  and  body,  is  taken  by  a  slim  V-pulley  and  passed 
down  into  the  huge  hold,  where  half  a  dozen  men  put 
him  comfortably  to  bed  after  his  exertion  in  rising  from 
his  long  bath.  In  good  sooth,  it  is  one  of  the  strangest 
sights  I  know  to  see  that  black  fellow  rising  up  so 
steadily  in  the  midst  of  the  blue  sea.  We  are  more 
than  half  way  to  the  place  where  we  expect  the  fault; 
and  already  the  one  wire,  supposed  previously  to  be 
quite  bad  near  the  African  coast,  can  be  spoken  through. 
I  am  very  glad  I  am  here,  for  my  machines  are  my  own 
children  and  I  look  on  their  little  failings  with  a  parent's 
eye  and  lead  them  into  the  path  of  duty  with  gentle- 
ness and  firmness.  I  am  naturally  in  good  spirits,  but 
keep  very  quiet,  for  misfortunes  may  arise  at  any  instant; 
moreover  to-morrow  my  paying-out  apparatus  will  be 
wanted  should  all  go  well,  and  that  will  be  another  ner- 
vous operation.  Fifteen  miles  are  safely  in ;  but  no  one 
knows  better  than  I  do  that  nothing  is  done  till  all  is  done. 

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"June  ii. 

"9  A.  M. —  We  have  reached  the  splice  supposed  to 
be  faulty,  and  no  fault  has  been  found.     The  two  men 

learned  in  electricity,  L and  W ,  squabble  where 

the  fault  is. 

"  Evening. —  A  weary  day  in  a  hot  broiling  sun;  no 

air.     After  the  experiments,  L said  the  fault  might 

be  ten  miles  ahead ;  by  that  time,  we  should  be  accord- 
ing to  a  chart  in  about  a  thousand  fathoms  of  water — 
rather  more  than  a  mile.  It  was  most  difficult  to  decide 
whether  to  go  on  or  not.  I  made  preparations  for  a 
heavy  pull,  set  small  things  to  rights  and  went  to  sleep. 
About  four  in  the  afternoon,  Mr.  Liddell  decided  to  pro- 
ceed, and  we  are  now  (at  seven)  grinding  it  in  at  the 
rate  of  a  mile  and  three-quarters  per  hour,  which  ap- 
pears a  grand  speed  to  us.  If  the  paying-out  only 
works  well!  I  have  just  thought  of  a  great  improve- 
ment in  it;  I  can't  apply  it  this  time,  however. —  The 
sea  is  of  an  oily  calm,  and  a  perfect  fleet  of  brigs  and 
ships  surrounds  us,  their  sails  hardly  filling  in  the  lazy 
breeze.  The  sun  sets  behind  the  dim  coast  of  the  Isola 
San  Pietro,  the  coast  of  Sardinia,  high  and  rugged,  be- 
comes softer  and  softer  in  the  distance,  while  to  the 
westward  still  the  isolated  rock  of  Toro  springs  from 
the  horizon.  —  It  would  amuse  you  to  see  how  cool  (in 
head)  and  jolly  everybody  is.  A  testy  word  now  and 
then  shows  the  wires  are  strained  a  little,  but  every  one 
laughs  and  makes  his  little  jokes  as  if  it  were  all  in  fun: 
yet  we  are  all  as  much  in  earnest  as  the  most  earnest 
of  the  earnest  bastard  German  school  or  demonstrative 
of  Frenchmen.  I  enjoy  it  very  much. 

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"June  12. 

"  5.30  A.M.  — Out  of  sight  of  land :  about  thirty  nauti- 
cal miles  in  the  hold;  the  wind  rising  a  little;  experi- 
ments being  made  for  a  fault,  while  the  engine  slowly 
revolves  to  keep  us  hanging  at  the  same  spot:  depth 
supposed  about  a  mile.  The  machinery  has  behaved 
admirably.  Oh!  that  the  paying-out  were  over!  The 
new  machinery  there  is  but  rough,  meant  for  an  experi- 
ment in  shallow  water,  and  here  we  are  in  a  mile  of 
water. 

"6.30. — I  have  made  my  calculations  and  find  the 
new  paying-out  gear  cannot  possibly  answer  at  this 
depth,  some  portion  would  give  way.  Luckily,  I  have 
brought  the  old  things  with  me  and  am  getting  them 
rigged  up  as  fast  as  may  be.  Bad  news  from  the  cable. 
Number  four  has  given  in  some  portion  of  the  last  ten 
miles:  the  fault  in  number  three  is  still  at  the  bottom  of 
the  sea:  number  two  is  now  the  only  good  wire;  and 
the  hold  is  getting  in  such  a  mess,  through  keeping  bad 
bits  out  and  cutting  for  splicing  and  testing,  that  there 
will  be  great  risk  in  paying  out.  The  cable  is  some- 
what strained  in  its  ascent  from  one  mile  below  us; 
what  it  will  be  when  we  get  to  two  miles  is  a  problem 
we  may  have  to  determine. 

"  9  P.M.  — A  most  provoking  unsatisfactory  day.  We 
have  done  nothing.  The  wind  and  sea  have  both  risen. 
Too  litttle  notice  has  been  given  to  the  telegraphists 
who  accompany  this  expedition;  they  had  to  leave  all 
their  instruments  at  Lyons  in  order  to  arrive  at  Bona  in 
time ;  our  tests  are  therefore  of  the  roughest,  and  no  one 

really  knows  where  the  faults  are.  Mr.  L in  the 

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MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

morning  lost  much  time;  then  he  told  us,  after  we  had 
been  inactive  for  about  eight  hours,  that  the  fault  in 
number  three  was  within  six  miles;  and  at  six  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  when  all  was  ready  fora  start  to  pick  up 
these  six  miles,  he  comes  and  says  there  must  be  a  fault 
about  thirty  miles  from  Bona!  By  this  time  it  was  too 
late  to  begin  paying  out  to-day,  and  we  must  lie  here 
moored  in  a  thousand  fathoms  till  light  to-morrow 
morning.  The  ship  pitches  a  good  deal,  but  the  wind 
is  going  down. 

"June  13,  Sunday. 

"The  wind  has  not  gone  down,  however.  It  now 
(at  10.30)  blows  a  pretty  stiff  gale.  The  sea  has  also 
risen ;  and  the  Elba's  bows  rise  and  fall  about  9  feet. 
We  make  twelve  pitches  to  the  minute,  and  the  poor 
cable  must  feel  very  seasick  by  this  time.  We  are  quite 
unable  to  do  anything,  and  continue  riding  at  anchor  in 
one  thousand  fathoms,  the  engines  going  constantly  so 
as  to  keep  the  ship's  bows  up  to  the  cable,  which  by 
this  means  hangs  nearly  vertical  and  sustains  no  strain 
but  that  caused  by  its  own  weight  and  the  pitching  of 
the  vessel.  We  were  all  up  at  four,  but  the  weather 
entirely  forbade  work  for  to-day,  so  some  went  to  bed 
and  most  lay  down,  making  up  our  leeway,  as  we 
nautically  term  our  loss  of  sleep.  I  must  say  Liddell  is 
a  fine  fellow  and  keeps  his  patience  and  temper  won- 
derfully ;  and  yet  how  he  does  fret  and  fume  about  trifles 
at  home!  This  wind  has  blown  now  for  36  hours,  and 
yet  we  have  telegrams  from  Bona  to  say  the  sea  there 
is  as  calm  as  a  mirror.  It  makes  one  laugh  to  remem- 
ber one  is  still  tied  to  the  shore.  Click,  click,  click,  the 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

pecker  is  at  work:  I  wonder  what  Herr  P — • —  says  to 

Herr  L ,  — tests,  tests,  tests,  nothing  more.     This 

will  be  a  very  anxious  day. 

"Jutu  14. 

"Another  day  of  fatal  inaction. 

"June  15. 

"  9.30.  — The  wind  has  gone  down  a  deal;  but  even 
now  there  are  doubts  whether  we  shall  start  to-day. 
When  shall  I  get  back  to  you  ? 

"9  P.M.  —  Four  miles  from  land.  Our  run  has  been 
successful  and  eventless.  Now  the  work  is  nearly  over 
I  feel  a  little  out  of  spirits  —  why,  I  should  be  puzzled 
to  say  —  mere  wantonness,  or  reaction  perhaps  after 
suspense. 

"Jun«  16. 

"Up  this  morning  at  three,  coupled  my  self-acting 
gear  to  the  brake  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  it 
pay  out  the  last  four  miles  in  very  good  style.  With 
one  or  two  little  improvements,  I  hope  to  make  it  a 
capital  thing.  The  end  has  just  gone  ashore  in  two 
boats,  three  out  of  four  wires  good.  Thus  ends  our 
first  expedition.  By  some  odd  chance  a  Times  of  June 
the  7th  has  found  its  way  on  board  through  the  agency 
of  a  wretched  old  peasant  who  watches  the  end  of  the 
line  here.  A  long  account  of  breakages  in  the  Atlantic 
trial  trip.  To-night  we  grapple  for  the  heavy  cable, 
eight  tons  to  the  mile.  I  long  to  have  a  tug  at  him ;  he 
may  puzzle  me,  and  though  misfortunes  or  rather  diffi- 
culties are  a  bore  at  the  time,  life  when  working  with 
cables  is  tame  without  them. 

"2.  P.M.  —  Hurrah,  he  is  hooked,  the  big  fellow,  al- 
most at  the  first  cast.  He  hangs  under  our  bows  look- 

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ing  so  huge  and  imposing  that  I  could  find  it  in  my 
heart  to  be  afraid  of  him. 

"June  17. 

"  We  went  to  a  little  bay  called  Chia,  where  a  fresh- 
water stream  falls  into  the  sea,  and  took  in  water. 
This  is  rather  a  long  operation,  so  I  went  a  walk  up  the 
valley  with  Mr.  Liddell.  The  coast  here  consists  of 
rocky  mountains  800  to  1,000  feet  high  covered  with 
shrubs  of  a  brilliant  green.  On  landing  our  first  amuse- 
ment was  watching  the  hundreds  of  large  fish  who 
lazily  swam  in  shoals  about  the  river;  the  big  canes  on 
the  further  side  hold  numberless  tortoises,  we  are  told, 
but  see  none,  for  just  now  they  prefer  taking  a  siesta. 
A  little  further  on,  and  what  is  this  with  large  pink 
flowers  in  such  abundance? — the  oleander  in  full 
flower.  At  first  I  fear  to  pluck  them,  thinking  they  must 
be  cultivated  and  valuable;  but  soon  the  banks  show  a 
long  line  of  thick,  tall  shrubs,  one  mass  of  glorious  pink 
and  green.  Set  these  in  a  little  valley,  framed  by  moun- 
tains whose  rocks  gleam  out  blue  and  purple  colors 
such  as  pre-Raphaelites  only  dare  attempt,  shining  out 
hard  and  weird-like  amongst  the  clumps  of  castor-oil 
plants,  cistus,  arbor  vitse  and  many  other  evergreens, 
whose  names,  alas!  I  know  not;  the  cistus  is  brown 
now,  the  rest  all  deep  or  brilliant  green.  Large  herds 
of  cattle  browse  on  the  baked  deposit  at  the  foot  of 
these  large  crags.  One  or  two  half-savage  herdsmen 
in  sheepskin  kilts,  &c.,  ask  for  cigars;  partridges  whir 
up  on  either  side  of  us;  pigeons  coo  and  nightingales 
sing  amongst  the  blooming  oleander.  We  get  six 
sheep  and  many  fowls,  too,  from  the  priest  of  the  small 

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village;  and  then  run  back  to  Spartivento  and  make 
preparations  for  the  morning. 

''June  1 8. 

"The  big  cable  is  stubborn  and  will  not  behave  like 
his  smaller  brother.  The  gear  employed  to  take  him  off 
the  drum  is  not  strong  enough ;  he  gets  slack  on  the  drum 
and  plays  the  mischief.  Luckily  for  my  own  conscience, 
the  gear  I  had  wanted  was  negatived  by  Mr.  Newall. 
Mr.  Liddell  does  not  exactly  blame  me,  but  he  says  we 
might  have  had  a  silver  pulley  cheaper  than  the  cost  o/ 
this  delay.  He  has  telegraphed  for  more  men  to  Cagliari 
to  try  to  pull  the  cable  off  the  drum  into  the  hold,  by  hand, 
I  look  as  comfortable  as  I  can,  but  feel  as  if  people  were 
blaming  me.  I  am  trying  my  best  to  get  something 
rigged  which  may  help  us ;  I  wanted  a  little  difficulty, 
and  feel  much  better. — The  short  length  we  have  picked 
up  was  covered  at  places  with  beautiful  sprays  of  coral, 
twisted  and  twined  with  shells  of  those  small,  fairy  ani- 
mals we  saw  in  the  aquarium  at  home;  poor  little 
things,  they  died  at  once,  with  their  little  bells  and 
delicate  bright  tints. 

"12  o'clock. —  Hurrah,  victory!  for  the  present  any-  * 
how.  Whilst  in  our  first  dejection,  I  thought  I  saw  a 
place  where  a  flat  roller  would  remedy  the  whole  mis- 
fortune; but  a  flat  roller  at  Cape  Spartivento,  hard, 
easily  unshipped,  running  freely!  There  was  a  grooved 
pulley  used  for  the  paying-out  machinery  with  a  spindle 
wheel,  which  might  suit  me.  I  filled  him  up  with 
tarry  spunyarn,  nailed  sheet  copper  round  him,  bent 
some  parts  in  the  fire;  and  we  are  paying-in  without 
more  trouble  now.  You  would  think  some  one  would 

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praise  me ;  no,  no  more  praise  than  blame  before ;  per- 
haps now  they  think  better  of  me,  though. 

"  10  P.M. — We  have  gone  on  very  comfortably  for 
nearly  six  miles.  An  hour  and  a  half  was  spent  wash- 
ing down ;  for  along  with  many  coloured  polypi,  from 
corals,  shells  and  insects,  the  big  cable  brings  up  much 
mud  and  rust,  and  makes  a  fishy  smell  by  no  means 
pleasant:  the  bottom  seems  to  teem  with  life. —  But 
now  we  are  startled  by  a  most  unpleasant,  grinding 
noise ;  which  appeared  at  first  to  come  from  the  large 
low  pulley,  but  when  the  engines  stopped,  the  noise 
continued;  and  we  now  imagine  it  is  something  slip- 
ping down  the  cable,  and  the  pulley  but  acts  as  sound- 
ing-board to  the  big  fiddle.  Whether  it  is  only  an 
anchor  or  one  of  the  two  other  cables,  we  know  not. 
We  hope  it  is  not  the  cable  just  laid  down. 

"June  19. 

"  10  A.M. — All  our  alarm  groundless,  it  would  ap- 
pear :  the  odd  noise  ceased  after  a  time,  and  there  was 
no  mark  sufficiently  strong  on  the  large  cable  to  war- 
rant the  suspicion  that  we  had  cut  another  line  through. 
I  stopped  up  on  the  look-out  till  three  in  the  morning, 
which  made  23  hours  between  sleep  and  sleep.  One 
goes  dozing  about,  though,  most  of  the  day,  for  it  is 
only  when  something  goes  wrong  that  one  has  to  look 
alive.  Hour  after  hour,  I  stand  on  the  forecastle-head, 
picking  off  little  specimens  of  polypi  and  coral,  or  lie 
on  the  saloon  deck  reading  back  numbers  of  the  Times 
—  till  something  hitches,  and  then  all  is  hurly-burly 
once  more.  There  are  awnings  all  along  the  ship,  and 
a  most  ancient,  fish-like  smell  beneath. 

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MEMOIR   OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

"i  o'clock. —  Suddenly  a  great  strain  in  only  95 
fathoms  of  water  —  belts  surging  and  general  dismay; 
grapnels  being  thrown  out  in  the  hope  of  finding  what 
holds  the  cable. —  Should  it  prove  the  young  cable !  We 
are  apparently  crossing  its  path  —  not  the  working  one, 
but  the  lost  child;  Mr.  Liddell  would  start  the  big  one 
first  though  it  was  laid  first ;  he  wanted  to  see  the  job 
done,  and  meant  to  leave  us  to  the  small  one  unaided 
by  his  presence. 

"3.30. —  Grapnel  caught  something,  lost  it  again;  it 
left  its  marks  on  the  prongs.  Started  lifting  gear  again ; 
and  after  hauling  in  some  50  fathoms  —  grunt,  grunt, 
grunt  —  we  hear  the  other  cable  slipping  down  our  big 
one,  playing  the  selfsame  tune  we  heard  last  night  — 
louder,  however. 

"  10  P.M. — The  pull  on  the  deck  engines  became 
harder  and  harder.  I  got  steam  up  in  a  boiler  on  deck, 
and  another  little  engine  starts  hauling  at  the  grapnel. 
I  wonder  if  there  ever  was  such  a  scene  of  confusion : 

Mr.  Liddell  and  W and  the  captain  all  giving  orders 

contradictory,  &c.,  on  the  forecastle;  D ,  the  fore- 
man of  our  men,  the  mates,  &c.,  following  the  example 
of  our  superiors;  the  ship's  engine  and  boilers  below,  a 
5o-horse  engine  on  deck,  a  boiler  14  feet  long  on  deck 
beside  it,  a  little  steam  winch  tearing  round;  a  dozen 
Italians  (20  have  come  to  relieve  our  hands,  the  men 
we  telegraphed  for  to  Cagliari)  hauling  at  the  rope; 
wiremen,  sailors,  in  the  crevices  left  by  ropes  and 
machinery;  everything  that  could  swear  swearing  —  I 
found  myself  swearing  like  a  trooper  at  last.  We  got 
the  unknown  difficulty  within  ten  fathoms  of  the  sur- 
face; but  then  the  forecastle  got  frightened  that,  if  it 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENK1N 

was  the  small  cable  which  we  had  got  hold  of,  we 
should  certainly  break  it  by  continuing  the  tremendous 
and  increasing  strain.  So  at  last  Mr.  Liddell  decided  to 
stop;  cut  the  big  cable,  buoying  its  end;  go  back  to 
our  pleasant  watering-place  at  Chia,  take  more  water 
and  start  lifting  the  small  cable.  The  end  of  the  large 
one  has  even  now  regained  its  sandy  bed;  and  three 
buoys  —  one  to  grapnel  foul  of  the  supposed  small  cable, 
two  to  the  big  cable  —  are  dipping  about  on  the  sur- 
face. One  more  —  a  flag-buoy — will  soon  follow,  and 
then  straight  for  shore. 

"June  20. 

"  It  is  an  ill-wind,  &c.  I  have  an  unexpected  oppor- 
tunity of  forwarding  this  engineering  letter;  for  the 
craft  which  brought  out  our  Italian  sailors  must  return 
to  Cagliari  to-night,  as  the  little  cable  will  take  us  nearly 
to  Galita,  and  the  Italian  skipper  could  hardly  find  his 
way  from  thence.  To-day  —  Sunday  —  not  much  rest. 
Mr.  Liddell  is  at  Spartivento  telegraphing.  We  are  at 
Chia,  and  shall  shortly  go  to  help  our  boat's  crew  in 
getting  the  small  cable  on  board.  We  dropped  them 
some  time  since  in  order  that  they  might  dig  it  out  of 
the  sand  as  far  as  possible. 

"Junt  2  \ . 

"Yesterday  —  Sunday  as  it  was  —  all  hands  were 
kept  at  work  all  day,  coaling,  watering,  and  making  a 
futile  attempt  to  pull  the  cable  from  the  shore  on  board 
through  the  sand.  This  attempt  was  rather  silly  after 
the  experience  we  had  gained  at  Cape  Spartivento. 
This  morning  we  grappled,  hooked  the  cable  at  once, 

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MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

and  have  made  an  excellent  start.  Though  I  have 
called  this  the  small  cable,  it  is  much  larger  than  the 
Bona  one. —  Here  comes  a  break  down  and  a  bad  one. 

"June  22. 

"We  got  over  it,  however;  but  it  is  a  warning  to 
me  that  my  future  difficulties  will  arise  from  parts 
wearing  out.  Yesterday  the  cable  was  often  a  lovely 
sight,  coming  out  of  the  water  one  large  incrustation 
of  delicate,  net-like  corals  and  long,  white  curling 
shells.  No  portion  of  the  dirty  black  wires  was  visible ; 
instead  we  had  a  garland  of  soft  pink  with  little  scarlet 
sprays  and  white  enamel  intermixed.  All  was  fragile, 
however,  and  could  hardly  be  secured  in  safety;  and 
inexorable  iron  crushed  the  tender  leaves  to  atoms. — 
This  morning  at  the  end  of  my  watch,  about  4  o'clock, 
we  came  to  the  buoys,  proving  our  anticipations  right 
concerning  the  crossing  of  the  cables.  I  went  to  bed 
for  four  hours,  and  on  getting  up,  found  a  sad  mess. 
A  tangle  of  the  six-wire  cable  hung  to  the  grapnel 
which  had  been  left  buoyed,  and  the  small  cable  had 
parted  and  is  lost  for  the  present.  Our  hauling  of  the 
other  day  must  have  done  the  mischief. 

"June  23. 

"We  contrived  to  get  the  two  ends  of  the  large  cable 
and  to  pick  the  short  end  up.  The  long  end,  leading 
us  seaward,  was  next  put  round  the  drum  and  a  mile 
of  it  picked  up;  but  then,  fearing  another  tangle,  the 
end  was  cut  and  buoyed,  and  we  returned  to  grapple 
for  the  three-wire  cable.  All  this  is  very  tiresome  for 
me.  The  buoying  and  dredging  are  managed  entirely 

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by  W ,  who  has  had  much  experience  in  this  sort 

of  thing;  so  I  have  not  enough  to  do  and  get  very 
homesick.  At  noon  the  wind  freshened  and  the  sea 
rose  so  high  that  we  had  to  run  for  land  and  are  once 
more  this  evening  anchored  at  Chia. 

"June  24. 

"  The  whole  day  spent  in  dredging  without  success. 
This  operation  consists  in  allowing  the  ship  to  drift 
slowly  across  the  line  where  you  expect  the  cable  to  be, 
while  at  the  end  of  a  long  rope,  fast  either  to  the  bow 
or  stern,  a  grapnel  drags  along  the  ground.  This  grap- 
nel is  a  small  anchor,  made  like  four  pot-hooks  tied 
back  to  back.  When  the  rope  gets  taut,  the  ship  is 
stopped  and  the  grapnel  hauled  up  to  the  surface  in  the 
hopes  of  finding  the  cable  on  its  prongs. —  I  am  much 
discontented  with  myself  for  idly  lounging  about  and 
reading  Westward  Hoi  for  the  second  time,  instead  of 
taking  to  electricity  or  picking  up  nautical  information. 
I  am  uncommonly  idle.  The  sea  is  not  quite  so  rough, 
but  the  weather  is  squally  and  the  rain  comes  in  fre- 
quent gusts. 

"June  25. 

"To-day  about  I  o'clock  we  hooked  the  three-wire 
cable,  buoyed  the  long  sea  end,  and  picked  up  the 
short  [or  shore]  end.  Now  it  is  dark  and  we  must 
wait  for  morning  before  lifting  the  buoy  we  lowered 
to-day  and  proceeding  seawards. — The  depth  of  water 
here  is  about  600  feet,  the  height  of  a  respectable  Eng- 
lish hill ;  our  fishing  line  was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long. 
It  blows  pretty  fresh,  and  there  is  a  great  deal  of  sea. 

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MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

"  06**. 

"  This  morning  it  came  on  to  blow  so  heavily  that  it 
was  impossible  to  take  up  our  buoy.  The  Elba  recom- 
menced rolling  in  true  Baltic  style  and  towards  noon 
we  ran  for  land. 

"  2-]t1),  Sunday. 

"This  morning  was  a  beautiful  calm.  We  reached 
the  buoys  at  about  4.30  and  commenced  picking  up  at 
6.30.  Shortly  a  new  cause  of  anxiety  arose.  Kinks 
came  up  in  great  quantities,  about  thirty  in  the  hour. 
To  have  a  true  conception  of  a  kink,  you  must  see  one: 
it  is  a  loop  drawn  tight,  all  the  wires  get  twisted  and 
the  gutta-percha  inside  pushed  out.  These  much  di- 
minish the  value  of  the  cable,  as  they  must  all  be  cut 
out,  the  gutta-percha  made  good,  and  the  cable  spliced. 
They  arise  from  the  cable  having  been  badly  laid  down 
so  that  it  forms  folds  and  tails  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 
These  kinks  have  another  disadvantage:  they  weaken 
the  cable  very  much. — At  about  six  o'clock  [P.M.]  we 
had  some  twelve  miles  lifted,  when  I  went  to  the  bows; 
the  kinks  were  exceedingly  tight  and  were  giving  way 
in  a  most  alarming  manner.  I  got  a  cage  rigged  up  to 
prevent  the  end  (if  it  broke)  from  hurting  any  one,  and 
sat  down  on  the  bowsprit,  thinking  I  should  describe 
kinks  to  Annie:  —  suddenly  I  saw  a  great  many  coils 
and  kinks  altogether  at  the  surface.  I  jumped  to  the 
gutta-percha  pipe,  by  blowing  through  which  the  sig- 
nal is  given  to  stop  the  engine.  I  blow,  but  the  engine 
does  not  stop;  again  —  no  answer:  the  coils  and  kinks 
jam  in  the  bows  and  I  rush  aft  shouting,  'stop!'  Too 
late:  the  cable  had  parted  and  must  lie  in  peace  at  the 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

bottom.  Some  one  had  pulled  the  gutta-percha  tube 
across  a  bare  part  of  the  steam  pipe  and  melted  it.  It 
had  been  used  hundreds  of  times  in  the  last  few  days 
and  gave  no  symptoms  of  failing.  I  believe  the  cable 
must  have  gone  at  any  rate;  however,  since  it  went  in 
my  watch  and  since  I  might  have  secured  the  tubing 
more  strongly,  I  feel  rather  sad.  .  .  . 

"Juttf  28. 

"Since  I  could  not  go  to  Annie  I  took  down  Shake- 
speare, and  by  the  time  I  had  finished  Antony  and  Cleo- 
patra, read  the  second  half  of  Troilus  and  got  some  way 
in  Coriolanw,  I  felt  it  was  childish  to  regret  the  accident 
had  happened  in  my  watch,  and  moreover  I  felt  myself 
not  much  to  blame  in  the  tubing  matter  —  it  had  been 
torn  down,  it  had  not  fallen  down;  so  I  went  to  bed, 
and  slept  without  fretting,  and  woke  this  morning  in 
the  same  good  mood — for  which  thank  you  and  our 
friend  Shakespeare.  I  am  happy  to  say  Mr.  Liddell  said 
the  loss  of  the  cable  did  not  much  matter;  though  this 
would  have  been  no  consolation  had  I  felt  myself  to 
blame.  This  morning  we  have  grappled  for  and  found 

another  length  of  small  cable  which  Mr. dropped 

in  loo  fathoms  of  water.  If  this  also  gets  full  of  kinks,  we 
shall  probably  have  to  cut  it  after  ten  miles  or  so,  or  more 
probably  still  it  will  part  of  its  own  free  will  or  weight. 

"  10  P.M. — This  second  length  of  three-wire  cable 
soon  got  into  the  same  condition  as  its  fellow — i.  e. 
came  up  twenty  kinks  an  hour  —  and  after  seven  miles 
were  in,  parted  on  the  pulley  over  the  bows  at  one  of 
the  said  kinks;  during  my  watch  again,  but  this  time 
no  earthly  power  could  have  saved  it.  I  had  taken  all 

no 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

manner  of  precautions  to  prevent  the  end  doing  any 
damage  when  the  smash  came,  for  come  I  knew  it 
must.  We  now  return  to  the  six-wire  cable.  As  I  sat 
watching  the  cable  to-night,  large  phosphorescent  globes 
kept  rolling  from  it  and  fading  in  the  black  water. 

"June  29. 

"  To-day  we  returned  to  the  buoy  we  had  left  at  the 
end  of  the  six-wire  cable,  and  after  much  trouble  from 
a  -series  of  tangles,  got  a  fair  start  at  noon.  You  will 
easily  believe  a  tangle  of  iron  rope  inch  and  a  half  di- 
ameter is  not  easy  to  unravel,  especially  with  a  ton  or 
so  hanging  to  the  ends.  It  is  now  eight  o'clock  and  we 
have  about  six  and  a  half  miles  safe :  it  becomes  very  ex- 
citing, however,  for  the  kinks  are  coming  fast  and  furious. 

"July  2. 

"Twenty-eight  miles  safe  in  the  hold.  The  ship  is 
now  so  deep,  that  the  men  are  to  be  turned  out  of  their 
aft  hold,  and  the  remainder  coiled  there;  so  the  good 
Elba's  nose  need  not  burrow  too  far  into  the  waves. 
There  can  only  be  about  10  or  12  miles  more,  but  these 

weigh  80  or  100  tons. 

"July  5. 

"Our  first  mate  was  much  hurt  in  securing  a  buoy 
on  the  evening  of  the  second.  As  interpreter  [with  the 
Italians]  I  am  useful  in  all  these  cases ;  but  for  no  for- 
tune would  I  be  a  doctor  to  witness  these  scenes  con- 
tinually. Pain  is  a  terrible  thing. — Our  work  is  done: 
the  whole  of  the  six- wire  cable  has  been  recovered; 
only  a  small  part  of  the  three-wire,  but  that  wire  was 
bad  and,  owing  to  its  twisted  state,  the  value  small.  We 
may  therefore  be  said  to  have  been  very  successful." 

in 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 
II 

I  have  given  this  cruise  nearly  in  full.  From  the 
notes,  unhappily  imperfect,  of  two  others,  I  will  take 
only  specimens;  for  in  all  there  are  features  of  simi- 
larity and  it  is  possible  to  have  too  much  even  of  sub- 
marine telegraphy  and  the  romance  of  engineering. 
And  first  from  the  cruise  of  1859  in  the  Greek  Islands  and 
to  Alexandria,  take  a  few  traits,  incidents  and  pictures. 

"May  10,  1859. 

"We  had  a  fair  wind  and  we  did  very  well,  seeing 
a  little  bit  of  Cerig  or  Cythera,  and  lots  of  turtle-doves 
wandering  about  over  the  sea  and  perching,  tired  and 
timid,  in  the  rigging  of  our  little  craft.  Then  Falconera, 
Antimilo,  and  Milo,  topped  with  huge  white  clouds, 
barren,  deserted,  rising  bold  and  mysterious  from  the 
blue,  chafing  sea; — Argentiera,  Siphano,  Scapho,  Paros, 
Antiparos,  and  late  at  night  Syra  itself.  Adam  Bede  in 
one  hand,  a  sketch-book  in  the  other,  lying  on  rugs 
under  an  awning,  I  enjoyed  a  very  pleasant  day. 

"May  14. 

"Syra  is  semi-eastern.  The  pavement,  huge  shape- 
less blocks  sloping  to  a  central  gutter;  from  this  bare 
two-storied  houses,  sometimes  plaster  many  coloured, 
sometimes  rough-hewn  marble,  rise,  dirty  and  ill-fin- 
ished, to  straight,  plain,  flat  roofs;  shops  guiltless  of 
windows,  with  signs  in  Greek  letters;  dogs,  Greeks 
in  blue,  baggy  Zouave  breeches  and  a  fez,  a  few  nar- 
ghilehs  and  a  sprinkling  of  the  ordinary  continental 
shopboys. — In  the  evening  I  tried  one  more  walk  in 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLE£MING  JENKIN 

Syra  with  A ,  but  in  vain  endeavoured  to  amuse 

myself  or  to  spend  money ;  the  first  effort  resulting  in 
singing  Doodah  to  a  passing  Greek  or  two,  the  second 

in  spending,  no,  in  making  A spend,  threepence 

on  coffee  for  three. 

"May  1 6. 

"On  coming  on  deck,  I  found  we  were  at  anchor  in 
Canea  bay,  and  saw  one  of  the  most  lovely  sights  man 
could  witness.  Far  on  either  hand  stretch  bold  moun- 
tain capes,  Spada  and  Maleka,  tender  in  colour,  bold  in 
outline;  rich  sunny  levels  lie  beneath  them,  framed  by 
the  azure  sea.  Right  in  front,  a  dark  brown  fortress  gir- 
dles white  mosques  and  minarets.  Rich  and  green, 
our  mountain  capes  here  join  to  form  a  setting  for  the 
town,  in  whose  dark  walls — still  darker  —  open  a 
dozen  high-arched  caves  in  which  the  huge  Venetian 
galleys  used  to  lie  in  wait.  High  above  all,  higher  and 
higher  yet,  up  into  the  firmament,  range  after  range  of 
blue  and  snow-capped  mountains.  I  was  bewildered 
and  amazed,  having  heard  nothing  of  this  great  beauty. 
The  town  when  entered  is  quite  eastern.  The  streets 
are  formed  of  open  stalls  under  the  first  story,  in  which 
squat  tailors,  cooks,  sherbet  venders  and  the  like,  busy 
at  their  work  or  smoking  narghilehs.  Cloths  stretched 
from  house  to  house  keep  out  the  sun.  Mules  rattle 
through  the  crowd ;  curs  yelp  between  your  legs ;  ne- 
groes are  as  hideous  and  bright  clothed  as  usual;  grave 
Turks  with  long  chibouques  continue  to  march  sol- 
emnly without  breaking  them;  a  little  Arab  in  one 
dirty  rag  pokes  fun  at  two  splendid  little  Turks  with 
brilliant  fezzes ;  wiry  mountaineers  in  dirty,  full,  white 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

kilts,  shouldering  long  guns  and  one  hand  on  their  pis- 
tols, stalk  untamed  past  a  dozen  Turkish  soldiers,  who 
look  sheepish  and  brutal  in  worn  cloth  jacket  and  cot- 
ton trousers.  A  headless,  wingless  lion  of  St.  Mark 
still  stands  upon  a  gate,  and  has  left  the  mark  of  his 
strong  clutch.  Of  ancient  times  when  Crete  was  Crete, 
not  a  trace  remains;  save  perhaps  in  the  full,  well-cut 
nostril  and  firm  tread  of  that  mountaineer,  and  I  suspect 
that  even  his  sires  were  Albanians,  mere  outer  barbarians. 

"May  17. 

"  I  spent  the  day  at  the  little  station  where  the  cable 
was  landed,  which  has  apparently  been  first  a  Venetian 
monastery  and  then  a  Turkish  mosque.  At  any  rate 
the  big  dome  is  very  cool,  and  the  little  ones  hold  [our 
electric]  batteries  capitally.  A  handsome  young  Bashi- 
bazouk  guards  it,  and  a  still  handsomer  mountaineer  is 
the  servant;  so  I  draw  them  and  the  monastery  and 
the  hill,  till  I'm  black  in  the  face  with  heat  and  come  on 
board  to  hear  the  Canea  cable  is  still  bad. 


"  We  arrived  in  the  morning  at  the  east  end  of  Can- 
dia,  and  had  a  glorious  scramble  over  the  mountains, 
which  seem  built  of  adamant.  Time  has  worn  away 
the  softer  portions  of  the  rock,  only  leaving  sharp 
jagged  edges  of  steel.  Sea  eagles  soaring  above  our 
heads;  old  tanks,  ruins,  and  desolation  at  our  feet.  The 
ancient  Arsinoe  stood  here;  a  few  blocks  of  marble  with 
the  cross  attest  the  presence  of  Venetian  Christians;  but 
now  —  the  desolation  of  desolations.  Mr.  Liddelland  I 
separated  from  the  rest,  and  when  we  had  found  a  sure 

"4 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

bay  for  the  cable,  had  a  tremendous  lively  scramble  back 
to  the  boat.  These  are  the  bits  of  our  life  which  I  enjoy, 
which  have  some  poetry,  some  grandeur  in  them. 


"Yesterday  we  ran  round  to  the  new  harbour  [of 
Alexandria],  landed  the  shore  end  of  the  cable  close  to 
Cleopatra's  bath,  and  made  a  very  satisfactory  start 
about  one  in  the  afternoon.  We  had  scarcely  gone  200 
yards  when  I  noticed  that  the  cable  ceased  to  run  out, 
and  I  wondered  why  the  ship  had  stopped.  People  ran 
aft  to  tell  me  not  to  put  such  a  strain  on  the  cable;  I 
answered  indignantly  that  there  was  no  strain;  and 
suddenly  it  broke  on  every  one  in  the  ship  at  once  that 
we  were  aground.  Here  was  a  nice  mess.  A  violent 
scirocco  blew  from  the  land  ;  making  one's  skin  feel  as 
if  it  belonged  to  some  one  else  and  didn't  fit,  mak- 
ing the  horizon  dim  and  yellow  with  fine  sand,  oppress- 
ing every  sense  and  raising  the  thermometer  20  degrees 
in  an  hour,  but  making  calm  water  round  us  which  en- 
abled the  ship  to  lie  for  the  time  in  safety.  The  wind 
might  change  at  any  moment,  since  the  scirocco  was 
only  accidental;  and  at  the  first  wave  from  seaward 
bump  would  go  the  poor  ship,  and  there  would  [might] 
be  an  end  of  our  voyage.  The  captain,  without  wait- 
ing to  sound,  began  to  make  an  effort  to  put  the  ship 
over  what  was  supposed  to  be  a  sandbank;  but  by  the 
time  soundings  were  made,  this  was  found  to  be  im- 
possible, and  he  had  only  been  jamming  the  poor  Elba 
faster  on  a  rock.  Now  every  effort  was  made  to  get 
her  astern,  an  anchor  taken  out,  a  rope  brought  to  a 
winch  I  had  for  the  cable,  and  the  engines  backed;  but 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

all  in  vain.  A  small  Turkish  Government  steamer, 
which  is  to  be  our  consort,  came  to  our  assistance,  but 
of  course  very  slowly,  and  much  time  was  occupied 
before  we  could  get  a  hawser  to  her.  I  could  do  no 
good  after  having  made  a  chart  of  the  soundings  round 
the  ship,  and  went  at  last  on  to  the  bridge  to  sketch  the 
scene.  But  at  that  moment  the  strain  from  the  winch 
and  a  jerk  from  the  Turkish  steamer  got  off  the  boat, 
after  we  had  been  some  hours  aground.  The  carpenter 
reported  that  she  had  made  only  two  inches  of  water 
in  one  compartment;  the  cable  was  still  uninjured 
astern,  and  our  spirits  rose;  when,  will  you  believe  it? 
after  going  a  short  distance  astern,  the  pilot  ran  us  once 
more  fast  aground  on  what  seemed  to  me  nearly  the 
same  spot.  The  very  same  scene  was  gone  through  as 
on  the  first  occasion,  and  dark  came  on  whilst  the  wind 
shifted,  and  we  were  still  aground.  Dinner  was  served 
up,  but  poor  Mr.  Liddell  could  eat  very  little;  and 
bump,  bump,  grind,  grind,  went  the  ship  fifteen  or  six- 
teen times  as  we  sat  at  dinner.  The  slight  sea,  however, 
did  enable  us  to  bump  off.  This  morning  we  appear  not 
to  have  suffered  in  any  way ;  but  a  sea  is  rolling  in,  which 
a  few  hours  ago  would  have  settled  the  poor  old  Elba. 

"Junt—. 

"The  Alexandria  cable  has  again  failed;  after  paying 
out  two-thirds  of  the  distance  successfully,  an  unlucky 
touch  in  deep  water  snapped  the  line.  Luckily  the  ac- 
cident occurred  in  Mr.  Liddell's  watch.  Though  per- 
sonally it  may  not  really  concern  me,  the  accident 
weighs  like  a  personal  misfortune.  Still  I  am  glad  I  was 
present:  a  failure  is  probably  more  instructive  than  a 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENK1N 

success;  and  this  experience  may  enable  us  to  avoid 
misfortune  in  still  greater  undertakings. 

"Junt—. 

"We  left  Syra  the  morning  after  our  arrival  on  Satur- 
day the  4th.  This  we  did  (first)  because  we  were  in 
a  hurry  to  do  something  and  (second)  because,  coming 
from  Alexandria,  we  had  four  days'  quarantine  to  per- 
form. We  were  all  mustered  along  the  side  while  the 
doctor  counted  us ;  the  letters  were  popped  into  a  little 
tin  box  and  taken  away  to  be  smoked;  the  guardians 
put  on  board  to  see  that  we  held  no  communication 
with  the  shore  —  without  them  we  should  still  have 
had  four  more  day's  quarantine;  and  with  twelve  Greek 
sailors  besides,  we  started  merrily  enough  picking  up 
the  Canea  cable.  ...  To  our  utter  dismay,  the  yarn 
covering  began  to  come  up  quite  decayed,  and  the 
cable,  which  when  laid  should  have  borne  half  a  ton, 
was  now  in  danger  of  snapping  with  a  tenth  part  of 
that  strain.  We  went  as  slow  as  possible  in  fear  of  a 
break  at  every  instant.  My  watch  was  from  eight  to 
twelve  in  the  morning,  and  during  that  time  we  had 
barely  secured  three  miles  of  cable.  Once  it  broke  in- 
side the  ship,  but  I  seized  hold  of  it  in  time — the  weight 
being  hardly  anything —  and  the  line  for  the  nonce  was 
saved.  Regular  nooses  were  then  planted  inboard  with 
men  to  draw  them  taut,  should  the  cable  break  inboard. 

A ,  who  should  have  relieved  me,  was  unwell,  so  I 

had  to  continue  my  look-out;  and  about  one  o'clock  the 
line  again  parted,  but  was  again  caught  in  the  last  noose, 
with  about  four  inches  to  spare.  Five  minutes  after- 
wards it  again  parted  and  was  yet  once  more  caught. 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Mr.  Liddell  (whom  I  had  called)  could  stand  this  no 
longer;  so  we  buoyed  the  line  and  ran  into  a  bay  in 
Siphano,  waiting  for  calm  weather,  though  I  was  by  no 
means  of  opinion  that  the  slight  sea  and  wind  had  been 
the  cause  of  our  failures.  —  All  next  day  (Monday)  we 
lay  off  Siphano,  amusing  ourselves  on  shore  with  fowl- 
ing-pieces and  navy  revolvers.  I  need  not  say  we  killed 
nothing;  and  luckily  we  did  not  wound  any  of  our- 
selves. A  guardiano  accompanied  us,  his  functions  be- 
ing limited  to  preventing  actual  contact  with  the  natives, 
for  they  might  come  as  near  and  talk  as  much  as  they 
pleased.  These  isles  of  Greece  are  sad,  interesting 
places.  They  are  not  really  barren  all  over,  but  they  are 
quite  destitute  of  verdure ;  and  tufts  of  thyme,  wild  mastic 
or  mint,  though  they  sound  well,  are  not  nearly  so 
pretty  as  grass.  Many  little  churches,  glittering  white, 
dot  the  islands;  most  of  them,  I  believe,  abandoned 
during  the  whole  year  with  the  exception  of  one  day 
sacred  to  their  patron  saint.  The  villages  are  mean,  but 
the  inhabitants  do  not  look  wretched  and  the  men  are 
good  sailors.  There  is  something  in  this  Greek  race 
yet;  they  will  become  a  powerful  Levantine  nation  in 
the  course  of  time. — What  a  lovely  moonlight  evening 
that  was!  the  barren  island  cutting  the  clear  sky  with 
fantastic  outline,  marble  cliffs  on  either  hand  fairly 
gleaming  over  the  calm  sea.  Next  day,  the  wind  still 
continuing,  I  proposed  a  boating  excursion  and  decoyed 

A ,  L ,  and  S into  accompanying  me.     We 

took  the  little  gig,  and  sailed  away  merrily  enough 
round  a  point  to  a  beautiful  white  bay,  flanked  with  two 
glistening  little  churches,  fronted  by  beautiful  distant 
islands;  when  suddenly,  to  my  horror,  I  discovered  the 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENK1N 

Elba  steaming  full  speed  out  from  the  island.  Of  course 
we  steered  after  her;  but  the  wind  that  instant  ceased, 
and  we  were  left  in  a  dead  calm.  There  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  unship  the  mast,  get  out  the  oars  and  pull. 
The  ship  was  nearly  certain  to  stop  at  the  buoy ;  and  I 
wanted  to  learn  how  to  take  an  oar,  so  here  was  a 

chance  with  a  vengeance.    L steered,  and  we  three 

pulled — a  broiling  pull  it  was  about  halfway  across  to 
Palikandro — still  we  did  come  in,  pulling  an  uncom- 
mon good  stroke,  and  I  had  learned  to  hang  on  my  oar. 

L had  pressed  me  to  let  him  take  my  place;  but 

though  I  was  very  tired  at  the  end  of  the  first  quarter  of 
an  hour,  and  then  every  successive  half  hour,  I  would 
not  give  in.  I  nearly  paid  dear  for  my  obstinacy, 
however;  for  in  the  evening  I  had  alternate  fits  of  shiver- 
ing and  burning." 

Ill 

The  next  extracts,  and  I  am  sorry  to  say  the  last,  are 
from  Fleeming's  letters  of  1860,  when  he  was  back  at 
Bona  and  Spartivento  and  for  the  first  time  at  the  head 
of  an  expedition.  Unhappily  these  letters  are  not  only 
the  last,  but  the  series  is  quite  imperfect;  and  this  is 
the  more  to  be  lamented  as  he  had  now  begun  to  use  a 
pen  more  skilfully,  and  in  the  following  notes  there  is 
at  times  a  touch  of  real  distinction  in  the  manner. 

"Cagliari:  October  5,  1860. 

"All  Tuesday  I  spent  examining  what  was  on  board 
the  Elba,  and  trying  to  start  the  repairs  of  the  Sparti- 
vento land  line,  which  has  been  entirely  neglected,  and 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

no  wonder,  for  no  one  has  been  paid  for  three  months, 
no,  not  even  the  poor  guards  who  have  to  keep  them- 
selves, their  horses  and  their  families,  on  their  pay. 
Wednesday  morning,  I  started  for  Spartivento  and  got 
there  in  time  to  try  a  good  many  experiments.  Sparti- 
vento looks  more  wild  and  savage  than  ever,  but  is  not 
without  a  strange  deadly  beauty :  the  hills  covered  with 
bushes  of  a  metallic  green  with  coppery  patches  of  soil 
in  between ;  the  valleys  filled  with  dry  salt  mud  and  a 
little  stagnant  water;  where  that  very  morning  the  deer 
had  drunk,  where  herons,  curlews,  and  other  fowl 
abound,  and  where,  alas !  malaria  is  breeding  with  this 
rain.  (No  fear  for  those  who  do  not  sleep  on  shore.) 
A  little  iron  hut  had  been  placed  there  since  1858;  but 
the  windows  had  been  carried  off,  the  door  broken 
down,  the  roof  pierced  all  over.  In  it,  we  sat  to  make 
experiments;  and  how  it  recalled  Birkenhead!  There 
was  Thomson,  there  was  my  testing  board,  the  strings 

of  gutta-percha ;  Harry  P even,  battering  with  the 

batteries ;  but  where  was  my  darling  Annie  ?  Whilst 
I  sat  feet  in  sand,  with  Harry  alone  inside  the  hut  — 
mats,  coats,  and  wood  to  darken  the  window — the 
others  visited  the  murderous  old  friar,  who  is  of  the 
order  of  Scaloppi,  and  for  whom  I  brought  a  letter  from 
his  superior,  ordering  him  to  pay  us  attention ;  but  he 
was  away  from  home,  gone  to  Cagliari  in  a  boat  with 
the  produce  of  the  farm  belonging  to  his  convent. 
Then  they  visited  the  tower  of  Chia,  but  could  not  get 
in  because  the  door  is  thirty  feet  off  the  ground ;  so 
they  came  back  and  pitched  a  magnificent  tent  which  I 
brought  from  the  Babiana  a  long  time  ago  —  and  where 
they  will  live  (if  I  mistake  not)  in  preference  to  the 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

friar's,  or  the  owl-  and  bat-haunted  tower.    MM.  T 

and  S will  be  left  there:  T ,  an  intelligent,  hard- 
working Frenchman,  with  whom  I  am  well  pleased;  he 
can  speak  English  and  Italian  well,  and  has  been  two 

years  at  Genoa.    S is  a  French-German  with  a  face 

like  an  ancient  Gaul,  who  has  been  sergeant-major  in 
the  French  line  and  who  is,  I  see,  a  great,  big,  muscular 
faineant.  We  left  the  tent  pitched  and  some  stores  in 
charge  of  a  guide,  and  ran  back  to  Cagliari. 

"  Certainly,  being  at  the  head  of  things  is  pleasanter 
than  being  subordinate.  We  all  agree  very  well;  and 
I  have  made  the  testing  office  into  a  kind  of  private 
room  where  I  can  come  and  write  to  you  undisturbed, 
surrounded  by  my  dear,  bright  brass  things  which  all  of 
them  remind  me  of  our  nights  at  Birkenhead.  Then  I 
can  work  here,  too,  and  try  lots  of  experiments ;  you 
know  how  I  like  that!  and  now  and  then  I  read  — 
Shakespeare  principally.  Thank  you  so  much  for 
making  me  bring  him:  I  think  I  must  get  a  pocket 
edition  of  Hamlet  and  Henry  the  Fifth,  so  as  never  to 
be  without  them. 

"  Cagliari:  October  7. 

"  [The  town  was  full  ?]  .  .  .  of  red-shirted  English 
Garibaldini.  A  very  fine  looking  set  of  fellows  they 
are,  too:  the  officers  rather  raffish,  but  with  medals 
Crimean  and  Indian;  the  men  a  very  sturdy  set,  with 
many  lads  of  good  birth  I  should  say.  They  still  wait 
their  consort  the  Emperor  and  will,  I  fear,  be  too  late 
to  do  anything.  I  meant  to  have  called  on  them,  but 
they  are  all  gone  into  barracks  some  way  from  the 
town,  and  I  have  been  much  too  busy  to  go  far. 

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MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

"The  view  from  the  ramparts  was  very  strange  and 
beautiful.  Cagliari  rises  on  a  very  steep  rock,  at  the 
mouth  of  a  wide  plain  circled  by  large  hills  and  three- 
quarters  filled  with  lagoons;  it  looks,  therefore,  like  an 
old  island  citadel.  Large  heaps  of  salt  mark  the  border 
between  the  sea  and  the  lagoons;  thousands  of  fla- 
mingoes whiten  the  centre  of  the  huge  shallow  marsh ; 
hawks  hover  and  scream  among  the  trees  under  the 
high  mouldering  battlements. —  A  little  lower  down, 
the  band  played.  Men  and  ladies  bowed  and  pranced, 
the  costumes  posed,  church  bells  tinkled,  processions 
processed,  the  sun  set  behind  thick  clouds  capping  the 
hills;  I  pondered  on  you  and  enjoyed  it  all. 

"Decidedly  I  prefer  being  master  to  being  man :  boats 
at  all  hours,  stewards  flying  for  marmalade,  captain  en- 
quiring when  ship  is  to  sail,  clerks  to  copy  my  writing, 
the  boat  to  steer  when  we  go  out  —  I  have  run  her  nose 
on  several  times;  decidedly,  I  begin  to  feel  quite  a  little 
king.  Confound  the  cable,  though!  I  shall  never  be 
able  to  repair  it. 

"  Bona:  October  14. 

"We  left  Cagliari  at  4.30  on  the  9th  and  soon  got  to 
Spartivento.  I  repeated  some  of  my  experiments,  but 
found  Thomson,  who  was  to  have  been  my  grand 
stand-by,  would  not  work  on  that  day  in  the  wretched 
little  hut.  Even  if  the  windows  and  door  had  been  put 
in,  the  wind,  which  was  very  high,  made  the  lamp 
flicker  about  and  blew  it  out;  so  I  sent  on  board  and 
got  old  sails,  and  fairly  wrapped  the  hut  up  in  them; 
and  then  we  were  as  snug  as  could  be,  and  I  left  the 
hut  in  glorious  condition  with  a  nice  little  stove  in  it. 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

The  tent  which  should  have  been  forthcoming  from  the 
cure's  for  the  guards,  had  gone  to  Cagliari;  but  I  found 
another,  [a]  green,  Turkish  tent,  in  the  Elba  and  soon 
had  him  up.  The  square  tent  left  on  the  last  occasion 
was  standing  all  right  and  tight  in  spite  of  wind  and 
rain.  We  landed  provisions,  two  beds,  plates,  knives, 
forks,  candles,  cooking  utensils,  and  were  ready  for  a 
start  at  6  P.M.  ;  but  the  wind  meanwhile  had  come  on 
to  blow  at  such  a  rate  that  I  thought  better  of  it,  and 

we  stopped.    T and  S slept  ashore,  however, 

to  see  how  they  liked  it;  at  least  they  tried  to  sleep, 

for  S ,  the  ancient  sergeant-major,  had  a  toothache, 

and  T thought  the  tent  was  coming  down  every 

minute.  Next  morning  they  could  only  complain  of 
sand  and  a  leaky  coffee-pot,  so  I  leave  them  with  a  good 
conscience.  The  little  encampment  looked  quite  pic- 
turesque :  the  green  round  tent,  the  square  white  tent 
and  the  hut  all  wrapped  up  in  sails,  on  a  sand  hill,  look- 
ing on  the  sea  and  masking  those  confounded  marshes 
at  the  back.  One  would  have  thought  the  Cagliaritans 
were  in  a  conspiracy  to  frighten  the  two  poor  fellows, 
who  (I  believe)  will  be  safe  enough  if  they  do  not  go 

into  the  marshes  after  nightfall.     S brought  a  little 

dog  to  amuse  them,  such  a  jolly,  ugly  little  cur  without 
a  tail,  but  full  of  fun;  he  will  be  better  than  quinine. 

"The  wind  drove  a  barque,  which  had  anchored 
near  us  for  shelter,  out  to  sea.  We  started,  however, 
at  2  P.M.,  and  had  a  quick  passage  but  a  very  rough 
one,  getting  to  Bona  by  daylight  [on  the  nthj.  Such 
a  place  as  this  is  forgetting  anything  done!  The  health 

boat  went  away  from  us  at  7.30  with  W on  board ; 

and  we  heard  nothing  of  them  till  9.30,  when  W 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENK1N 

came  back  with  two  fat  Frenchmen  who  are  to  look  on 
on  the  part  of  the  Government.  They  are  exactly  alike: 
only  one  has  four  bands  and  the  other  three  round  his 
cap,  and  so  I  know  them.  Then  I  sent  a  boat  round 
to  Fort  Genois  [Fort  Geneva  of  1858],  where  the  cable 
is  landed,  with  all  sorts  of  things  and  directions,  whilst 
I  went  ashore  to  see  about  coals  and  a  room  at  the  fort. 
We  hunted  people  in  the  little  square  in  their  shops  and 
offices,  but  only  found  them  in  caf6s.  One  amiable 
gentleman  wasn't  up  at  9.30,  was  out  at  10,  and  as 
soon  as  he  came  back  the  servant  said  he  would  go  to 
bed  and  not  get  up  till  3 :  he  came,  however,  to  find  us 
at  a  cafe,  and  said  that,  on  the  contrary,  two  days  in 
the  week  he  did  not  do  sol  Then  my  two  fat  friends 
must  have  their  breakfast  after  their  '  something '  at  a 
cafe;  and  all  the  shops  shut  from  10  to  2;  and  the  post 
does  not  open  till  12;  and  there  was  a  road  to  Fort 
Genois,  only  a  bridge  had  been  carried  away,  &c.  At 
last  I  got  off,  and  we  rowed  round  to  Fort  Genois, 
where  my  men  had  put  up  a  capital  gipsy  tent  with 
sails,  and  there  was  my  big  board  and  Thomson's  num- 
ber 5  in  great  glory.  I  soon  came  to  the  conclusion 
there  was  a  break.  Two  of  my  faithful  Cagliaritans 
slept  all  night  in  the  little  tent,  to  guard  it  and  my  pre- 
cious instruments ;  and  the  sea,  which  was  rather  rough, 
silenced  my  Frenchmen. 

"Next  day  I  went  on  with  my  experiments,  whilst  a 
boat  grappled  for  the  cable  a  little  way  from  shore  and 
buoyed  it  where  the  Elba  could  get  hold.  I  brought 
all  back  to  the  Elba,  tried  my  machinery  and  was  all 
ready  for  a  start  next  morning.  But  the  wretched  coal 
had  not  come  yet;  Government  permission  from  Algiers 

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MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

to  be  got;  lighters,  men,  baskets,  and  I  know  not  what 
forms  to  be  got  or  got  through  —  and  everybody  asleep  1 
Coals  or  no  coals,  I  was  determined  to  start  next  morn- 
ing; and  start  we  did  at  four  in  the  morning,  picked  up 
the  buoy  with  our  deck  engine,  popped  the  cable  across 
a  boat,  tested  the  wires  to  make  sure  the  fault  was  not 
behind  us,  and  started  picking  up  at  n.  Everything 
worked  admirably,  and  about  2  P.M.,  in  came  the  fault. 
There  is  no  doubt  the  cable  was  broken  by  coral  fishers; 
twice  they  have  had  it  up  to  their  own  knowledge. 

"  Many  men  have  been  ashore  to-day  and  have  come 
back  tipsy,  and  the  whole  ship  is  in  a  state  of  quarrel 
from  top  to  bottom,  and  they  will  gossip  just  within 
my  hearing.  And  we  have  had,  moreover,  three  French 
gentlemen  and  a  French  lady  to  dinner,  and  I  had  to  act 
host  and  try  to  manage  the  mixtures  to  their  taste.  The 
good-natured  little  Frenchwoman  was  most  amusing; 
when  I  asked  her  if  she  would  have  some  apple  tart — • 
' Mon  Dieu,'  with  heroic  resignation,  rje  veux  bien; ' 
or  a  little  plombodding —  '  Mais  ce  que  vous  voudre%, 
Monsieur  ! ' 

"S.  S.  Elba,  somewhere  not  far  from  Bona:  Oct.  19. 

"  Yesterday  [after  three  previous  days  of  useless  grap- 
pling] was  destined  to  be  very  eventful.  We  began 
dredging  at  daybreak  and  hooked  at  once  every  time  in 
rocks;  but  by  capital  luck,  just  as  we  were  deciding  it 
was  no  use  to  continue  in  that  place,  we  hooked  the 
cable:  up  it  came,  was  tested,  and  lol  another  com- 
plete break,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off.  I  was  amazed  at 
my  own  tranquillity  under  these  disappointments,  but 
1  was  not  really  half  so  fussy  as  about  getting  a  cab. 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Well,  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  grappling  again, 
and,  as  you  may  imagine,  we  were  getting  about  six 
miles  from  shore.  But  the  water  did  not  deepen  rap- 
idly ;  we  seemed  to  be  on  the  crest  of  a  kind  of  sub- 
marine mountain  in  prolongation  of  Cape  de  Gonde, 
and  pretty  havoc  we  must  have  made  with  the  crags. 
What  rocks  we  did  hook!  No  sooner  was  the  grapnel 
down  than  the  ship  was  anchored;  and  then  came 
such  a  business:  ship's  engines  going,  deck  engine 
thundering,  belt  slipping,  fear  of  breaking  ropes:  ac- 
tually breaking  grapnels.  It  was  always  an  hour  or 
more  before  we  could  get  the  grapnel  down  again.  At 
last  we  had  to  give  up  the  place,  though  we  knew  we 
were  close  to  the  cable,  and  go  further  to  sea  in  much 
deeper  water;  to  my  great  fear,  as  I  knew  the  cable 
was  much  eaten  away  and  would  stand  but  little 
strain.  Well,  we  hooked  the  cable  first  dredge  this 
time,  and  pulled  it  slowly  and  gently  to  the  top,  with 
much  trepidation.  Was  it  the  cable  ?  was  there  any 
weight  on  ?  it  was  evidently  too  small.  Imagine 
my  dismay  when  the  cable  did  come  up,  but  hanging 
loosely,  thus 


instead  of  taut,  thus 


showing  certain  signs  of  a  break  close  by.     For  a  mo- 
ment I  felt  provoked,  as  I  thought,  '  Here  we  are  in 

126 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

deep  water,  and  the  cable  will  not  stand  lifting!'  I 
tested  at  once,  and  by  the  very  first  wire  found  it  had 
broken  towards  shore  and  was  good  towards  sea.  This 
was  of  course  very  pleasant ;  but  from  that  time  to  this, 
though  the  wires  test  very  well,  not  a  signal  has  come 
from  Spartivento.  I  got  the  cable  into  a  boat,  and  a 
gutta-percha  line  from  the  ship  to  the  boat,  and  we 
signalled  away  at  a  great  rate  —  but  no  signs  of  life. 
The  tests,  however,  make  me  pretty  sure  one  wire  at 
least  is  good ;  so  I  determined  to  lay  down  cable  from 
where  we  were  to  the  shore,  and  go  to  Spartivento  to 
see  what  had  happened  there.  I  fear  my  men  are  ill. 
The  night  was  lovely,  perfectly  calm ;  so  we  lay  close 
to  the  boat  and  signals  were  continually  sent,  but  with 
no  result.  This  morning  I  laid  the  cable  down  to  Fort 
Genois  in  style;  and  now  we  are  picking  up  odds  and 
ends  of  cable  between  the  different  breaks,  and  getting 
our  buoys  on  board,  &c.  To-morrow  I  expect  to  leave 
for  Spartivento." 

IV 

And  now  I  am  quite  at  an  end  of  journal  keeping; 
diaries  and  diary  letters  being  things  of  youth  which 
Fleeming  had  at  length  outgrown.  But  one  or  two 
more  fragments  from  his  correspondence  may  be  taken, 
and  first  this  brief  sketch  of  the  laying  of  the  Norderney 
cable;  mainly  interesting  as  showing  under  what  de- 
fects of  strength  and  in  what  extremities  of  pain  this 
cheerful  man  must  at  times  continue  to  go  about  his 
work. 

"  I  slept  on  board  2gth  September,  having  arranged 
127 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

everything  to  start  by  daybreak  from  where  we  lay  in 
the  roads:  but  at  daybreak  a  heavy  mist  hung  over  us 
so  that  nothing  of  land  or  water  could  be  seen.  At 
midday  it  lifted  suddenly  and  away  we  went  with  per- 
fect weather,  but  could  not  find  the  buoys  Forde  left, 
that  evening.  I  saw  the  captain  was  not  strong  in 
navigation,  and  took  matters  next  day  much  more  into 
my  own  hands  and  before  nine  o'clock  found  the 
buoys  (the  weather  had  been  so  fine  we  had  anchored 
in  the  open  sea  near  Texel).  It  took  us  till  the  evening 
to  reach  the  buoys,  get  the  cable  on  board,  test  the  first 
half,  speak  to  Lowestoft,  make  the  splice,  and  start. 

H had  not  finished  his  work  at  Norderney,  so  I 

was  alone  on  board  for  Reuter.  Moreover  the  buoys 
to  guide  us  in  our  course  were  not  placed,  and  the 
captain  had  very  vague  ideas  about  keeping  his  course; 
so  I  had  to  do  a  good  deal,  and  only  lay  down  as  I  was 
for  two  hours  in  the  night.  I  managed  to  run  the 
course  perfectly.  Everything  went  well,  and  we  found 
Norderney  just  where  we  wanted  it  next  afternoon, 
and  if  the  shore  end  had  been  laid,  could  have  finished 
there  and  then,  October  ist.  But  when  we  got  to  Nor- 
derney, we  found  the  Caroline  with  shore  end  lying 
apparently  aground,  and  could  not  understand  her  sig- 
nals ;  so  we  had  to  anchor  suddenly  and  I  went  off  in 
a  small  boat  with  the  captain  to  the  Caroline.  It  was 
cold  by  this  time,  and  my  arm  was  rather  stiff  and  I 
was  tired;  I  hauled  myself  up  on  board  the  Caroline 

by  a  rope  and  found  H and  two  men  on  board. 

All  the  rest  were  trying  to  get  the  shore  end  on  shore, 
but  had  failed  and  apparently  had  stuck  on  shore,  and 
the  waves  were  getting  up.  We  had  anchored  in  the 

128 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

right  place  and  next  morning  we  hoped  the  shore  end 
would  be  laid,  so  we  had  only  to  go  back.  It  was 
of  course  still  colder  and  quite  night.  I  went  to  bed 
and  hoped  to  sleep,  but,  alas,  the  rheumatism  got 
into  the  joints  and  caused  me  terrible  pain  so  that  I 
could  not  sleep.  I  bore  it  as  long  as  I  could  in  order 
to  disturb  no  one,  for  all  were  tired;  but  at  last  I 
could  bear  it  no  longer  and  managed  to  wake  the  stew- 
ard and  got  a  mustard  poultice,  which  took  the  pain 
from  the  shoulder;  but  then  the  elbow  got  very  bad, 
and  I  had  to  call  the  second  steward  and  get  a  second 
poultice,  and  then  it  was  daylight,  and  I  felt  very  ill 
and  feverish.  The  sea  was  now  rather  rough  —  too 
rough  rather  for  small  boats,  but  luckily  a  sort  of  thing 
called  a  scoot  came  out,  and  we  got  on  board  her  with 
some  trouble,  and  got  on  shore  after  a  good  tossing 
about  which  made  us  all  sea-sick.  The  cable  sent  from 
the  Caroline  was  just  60  yards  too  short  and  did  not 
reach  the  shore,  so  although  the  Caroline  did  make  the 
splice  late  that  night,  we  could  neither  test  nor  speak. 
Reuter  was  at  Norderney,  and  I  had  to  do  the  best  I 
could,  which  was  not  much,  and  went  to  bed  early;  I 
thought  I  should  never  sleep  again,  but  in  sheer  des- 
peration got  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  and  gulped  a 
lot  of  raw  whisky  and  slept  at  last.  But  not  long.  A 

Mr.  F washed  my  face  and  hands  and  dressed  me; 

and  we  hauled  the  cable  out  of  the  sea,  and  got  it  joined 
to  the  telegraph  station,  and  on  October  ^rd  telegraphed 
to  Lowestoft  first  and  then  to  London.  Miss  Clara 
Volkman,  a  niece  of  Mr.  Reuter's,  sent  the  first  mes- 
sage to  Mrs.  Reuter,  who  was  waiting  (Varley  used 
Miss  Clara's  hand  as  a  kind  of  key),  and  I  sent  one  of 

129 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEM1NG  JENKIN 

the  first  messages  to  Odden.  I  thought  a  message  ad- 
dressed to  him  would  not  frighten  you,  and  that  he 
would  enjoy  a  message  through  Papa's  cable.  I  hope 
he  did.  They  were  all  very  merry,  but  I  had  been  so 
lowered  by  pain  that  I  could  not  enjoy  myself  in  spite 
of  the  success." 


Of  the  1869  cruise  in  the  Great  Eastern,  I  give  what 
I  am  able;  only  sorry  it  is  no  more,  for  the  sake  of  the 
ship  itself,  already  almost  a  legend  even  to  the  genera- 
tion that  saw  it  launched. 

"June  17,  1869. — Here  are  the  names  of  our  staff  in 
whom  I  expect  you  to  be  interested,  as  future  Great 
Eastern  stories  may  be  full  of  them :  Theophilus  Smith, 
a  man  of  Latimer  Clark's ;  Leslie  C.  Hill,  my  prizeman 
at  University  College;  Lord  Sackville  Cecil;  King,  one 
of  the  Thomsonian  Kings ;  Laws,  goes  for  Willoughby 
Smith,  who  will  also  be  on  board;  Varley,  Clark,  and 
Sir  James  Anderson  make  up  the  sum  of  all  you  know 
anything  of.  A  Captain  Halpin  commands  the  big 
ship.  There  are  four  smaller  vessels.  The  Wm.  Cory, 
which  laid  the  Norderney  cable,  has  already  gone  to  St. 
Pierre  to  lay  the  shore  ends.  The  Hawk  and  Cbiltern 
have  gone  to  Brest  to  lay  shore  ends.  The  Hawk  and 
Scanderia  go  with  us  across  the  Atlantic  and  we  shall 
at  St.  Pierre  be  trans-shipped  into  one  or  the  other. 

"June  18.  Somewhere  in  London. — The  shore  end 
is  laid,  as  you  may  have  seen,  and  we  are  all  under 
pressing  orders  to  march,  so  we  start  from  London  to- 
night at  5. 10. 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

"June  20.  Off  Usbant.  —  I  am  getting  quite  fond 
of  the  big  ship.  Yesterday  morning  in  the  quiet  sun- 
light, she  turned  so  slowly  and  lazily  in  the  great  har- 
bour at  Portland,  and  bye  and  bye  slipped  out  past  the 
long  pier  with  so  little  stir,  that  I  could  hardly  believe 
we  were  really  off.  No  men  drunk,  no  women  crying, 
no  singing  or  swearing,  no  confusion  or  bustle  on  deck 
—  nobody  apparently  aware  that  they  had  anything  to 
do.  The  look  of  the  thing  was  that  the  ship  had  been 
spoken  to  civilly  and  had  kindly  undertaken  to  do 
everything  that  was  necessary  without  any  further  in- 
terference. I  have  a  nice  cabin  with  plenty  of  room  for 
my  legs  in  my  berth  and  have  slept  two  nights  like  a 
top.  Then  we  have  the  ladies'  cabin  set  apart  as  an 
engineer's  office,  and  I  think  this  decidedly  the  nicest 
place  in  the  ship:  35  ft.  x  20  ft.  broad — four  tables, 
three  great  mirrors,  plenty  of  air  and  no  heat  from  the 
funnels  which  spoil  the  great  dining-room.  I  saw  a 
whole  library  of  books  on  the  walls  when  here  last,  and 
this  made  me  less  anxious  to  provide  light  literature; 
but  alas,  to-day  I  find  that  they  are  every  one  bibles  or 
prayer-books.  Now  one  cannot  read  many  hundred 
bibles.  ...  As  for  the  motion  of  the  ship  it  is  not  very 
much,  but  'twill  suffice.  Thomson  shook  hands  and 
wished  me  well.  I  do  like  Thomson.  .  .  .  Tell  Austin 
that  the  Great  Eastern  has  six  masts  and  four  funnels. 
When  I  get  back  I  will  make  a  little  model  of  her  for  all 
the  chicks  and  pay  out  cotton  reels.  .  .  .  Here  we  are 
at  4.20  at  Brest.  We  leave  probably  to-morrow  morn- 
ing. 

"July  12.  Great  Eastern.  — Here  as  I  write  we  run 
our  last  course  for  the  buoy  at  the  St.  Pierre  shore  end. 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

It  blows  and  lightens,  and  our  good  ship  rolls,  and 
buoys  are  hard  to  find ;  but  we  must  soon  now  finish 
our  work,  and  then  this  letter  will  start  for  home.  .  .  . 
Yesterday  we  were  mournfully  groping  our  way  through 
the  wet  grey  fog,  not  at  all  sure  where  we  were,  with 
one  consort  lost  and  the  other  faintly  answering  the 
roar  of  our  great  whistle  through  the  mist  As  to  the 
ship  which  was  to  meet  us,  and  pioneer  us  up  the  deep 
channel,  we  did  not  know  if  we  should  come  within 
twenty  miles  of  her;  when  suddenly  up  went  the  fog, 
out  came  the  sun,  and  there,  straight  ahead,  was  the 
Wm.  Cory,  our  pioneer,  and  a  little  dancing  boat,  the 
Gulnare,  sending  signals  of  welcome  with  many-col- 
oured flags.  Since  then  we  have  been  steaming  in  a 
grand  procession;  but  now  at  2  A.M.  the  fog  has  fallen, 
and  the  great  roaring  whistle  calls  up  the  distant  an- 
swering notes  all  around  us.  Shall  we,  or  shall  we  not 
find  the  buoy  ? 

"July  13. —  All  yesterday  we  lay  in  the  damp  drip- 
ping fog,  with  whistles  all  round  and  guns  firing  so 
that  we  might  not  bump  up  against  one  another.  This 
little  delay  has  let  us  get  our  reports  into  tolerable  order. 
We  are  now  at  seven  o'clock  getting  the  cable  end 
again,  with  the  main  cable  buoy  close  to  us." 

A  telegram  of  July  20:  "I  have  received  your  four 
welcome  letters.  The  Americans  are  charming  people." 

VI 

And  here  to  make  an  end  are  a  few  random  bits 
about  the  cruise  to  Pernambuco :  — 
"Plymouth,  June  21,  1873. —  I  have  been  down  to 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

the  sea-shore  and  smelt  the  salt  sea  and  like  it;  and  I 
have  seen  the  Hooper  pointing  her  great  bow  sea-ward, 
while  light  smoke  rises  from  her  funnels  telling  that  the 
fires  are  being  lighted;  and  sorry  as  I  am  to  be  without 
you,  something  inside  me  answers  to  the  call  to  be  off 
and  doing. 

"  LaUa  Rookb.  Plymouth ,  June  22. —  We  have  been 
a  little  cruise  in  the  yacht  over  to  the  Eddystone  light- 
house, and  my  sea-legs  seem  very  well  on.  Strange 
how  alike  all  these  starts  are  —  first  on  shore,  steaming 
hot  days  with  a  smell  of  bone-dust  and  tar  and  salt 
water;  then  the  little  puffing,  panting  steam-launch  that 
bustles  out  across  a  port  with  green  woody  sides,  little 
yachts  sliding  about,  men-of-war  training-ships,  and 
then  a  great  big  black  hulk  of  a  thing  with  a  mass  of 
smaller  vessels  sticking  to  it  like  parasites;  and  that  is 
one's  home  being  coaled.  Then  comes  the  Champagne 
lunch  where  everyone  says  all  that  is  polite  to  everyone 
else,  and  then  the  uncertainty  when  to  start.  So  far  as 
we  know  now,  we  are  to  start  to-morrow  morning  at 
daybreak;  letters  that  come  later  are  to  be  sent  to 
Pernambuco  by  first  mail.  .  .  .  My  father  has  sent  me 
the  heartiest  sort  of  Jack  Tar's  cheer. 

"5.  5.  Hooper.  Off  Funcbal,  June  29. —  Here  we 
are  off  Madeira  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Thom- 
son has  been  sounding  with  his  special  toy  ever  since 
half-past  three  (1087  fathoms  of  water).  I  have  been 
watching  the  day  break,  and  long  jagged  islands  start 
into  being  out  of  the  dull  night.  We  are  still  some 
miles  from  land;  but  the  sea  is  calmer  than  Loch  Eil 
often  was,  and  the  big  Hooper  rests  very  contentedly 
after  a  pleasant  voyage  and  favourable  breezes.  I  have 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

not  been  able  to  do  any  real  work  except  the  testing 
[of  the  cable],  for  though  not  sea-sick,  I  get  a  little 
giddy  when  I  try  to  think  on  board.  .  .  .  The  ducks 
have  just  had  their  daily  souse  and  are  quacking  and 
gabbling  in  a  mighty  way  outside  the  door  of  the  cap- 
tain's deck  cabin  where  I  write.  The  cocks  are  crow- 
ing, and  new-laid  eggs  are  said  to  be  found  in  the  coops. 
Four  mild  oxen  have  been  untethered  and  allowed  to 
walk  along  the  broad  iron  decks  —  a  whole  drove  of 
sheep  seem  quite  content  while  licking  big  lumps  of  bay 
salt.  Two  exceedingly  impertinent  goats  lead  the  cook 
a  perfect  life  of  misery.  They  steal  round  the  galley  and 
will  nibble  the  carrots  or  turnips  if  his  back  is  turned 
for  one  minute;  and  then  he  throws  something  at  them 
and  misses  them ;  and  they  scuttle  off  laughing  impu- 
dently, and  flick  one  ear  at  him  from  a  safe  distance. 
This  is  the  most  impudent  gesture  I  ever  saw.  Wink- 
ing is  nothing  to  it.  The  ear  normally  hangs  down  be- 
hind; the  goat  turns  sideways  to  her  enemy  —  by  a 
little  knowing  cock  of  the  head  flicks  one  ear  over  one 
eye,  and  squints  from  behind  it  for  half  a  minute  — 
tosses  her  head  back,  skips  a  pace  or  two  further  off, 
and  repeats  the  manreuvre.  The  cook  is  very  fat  and 
cannot  run  after  that  goat  much. 

"  Pernambuco,  Aug.  I. —  We  landed  here  yesterday, 
all  well  and  cable  sound,  after  a  good  passage.  ...  I 
am  on  familiar  terms  with  cocoa-nuts,  mangoes,  and 
bread-fruit  trees,  but  I  think  I  like  the  negresses  best 
of  anything  I  have  seen.  In  turbans  and  loose  sea- 
green  robes,  with  beautiful  black-brown  complexions 
and  a  stately  carriage,  they  really  are  a  satisfaction  to 
my  eye.  The  weather  has  been  windy  and  rainy ;  the 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Hooper  has  to  lie  about  a  mile  from  the  town,  in  an 
open  roadstead,  with  the  whole  swell  of  the  Atlantic 
driving  straight  on  shore.  The  little  steam  launch 
gives  all  who  go  in  her  a  good  ducking,  as  she  bobs 
about  on  the  big  rollers ;  and  my  old  gymnastic  prac- 
tice stands  me  in  good  stead  on  boarding  and  leaving 
her.  We  clamber  down  a  rope  ladder  hanging  from 
the  high  stern,  and  then  taking  a  rope  in  one  hand, 
swing  into  the  launch  at  the  moment  when  she  can 
contrive  to  steam  up  under  us  —  bobbing  about  like  an 
apple  thrown  into  a  tub  all  the  while.  The  President 
of  the  province  and  his  suite  tried  to  come  off  to  a  State 
luncheon  on  board  on  Sunday;  but  the  launch  being 
rather  heavily  laden,  behaved  worse  than  usual,  and 
some  green  seas  stove  in  the  President's  hat  and  made 
him  wetter  than  he  had  probably  ever  been  in  his  life; 
so  after  one  or  two  rollers,  he  turned  back;  and  indeed 
he  was  wise  to  do  so,  for  I  don't  see  how  he  could 
have  got  on  board.  .  .  .  Being  fully  convinced  that  the 
world  will  not  continue  to  go  round  unless  I  pay  it  per- 
sonal attention,  I  must  run  away  to  my  work." 


CHAPTER  VI 
1869—1885 

Edinburgh  —  Colleagues — Farrago  Vitce — I.  The  Family  Circle  — 
Fleeming  and  his  Sons  —  Highland  Life  —  The  Cruise  of  the  Steam 
Launch  —  Summer  in  Styria  —  Rustic  Manners —  II.  The  Drama  — 
Private  Theatricals  —  III.  Sanitary  Associations  —  The  Phonograph 
—  IV.  Fleeming's  Acquaintance  with  a  Student  —  His  late  Maturity 
of  Mind — Religion  and  Morality  —  His  Love  of  Heroism — Taste  in 
Literature  —  V.  His  Talk  —  His  late  Popularity  —  Letter  from  M. 
Trelat. 

THE  remaining  external  incidents  of  Fleeming's  life, 
pleasures,  honours,  fresh  interests,  new  friends,  are  not 
such  as  will  bear  to  be  told  at  any  length  or  in  the  tem- 
poral order.  And  it  is  now  time  to  lay  narration  by, 
and  to  look  at  the  man  he  was  and  the  life  he  lived, 
more  largely. 

Edinburgh,  which  was  henceforth  to  be  his  home,  is 
a  metropolitan  small  town;  where  college  professors 
and  the  lawyers  of  the  Parliament  House  give  the  tone, 
and  persons  of  leisure,  attracted  by  educational  advan- 
tages, make  up  much  of  the  bulk  of  society.  Not, 
therefore,  an  unlettered  place,  yet  not  pedantic,  Edin- 
burgh will  compare  favourably  with  much  larger  cities. 
A  hard  and  disputatious  element  has  been  commented 
on  by  strangers:  it  would  not  touch  Fleeming,  who 
was  himself  regarded,  even  in  this  metropolis  of  dispu- 
tation, as  a  thorny  table-mate.  To  golf  unhappily  he 

'3* 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

did  not  take,  and  golf  is  a  cardinal  virtue  in  the  city 
of  the  winds.  Nor  did  he  become  an  archer  of  the 
Queen's  Body-Guard,  which  is  the  Chiltern  Hundreds 
of  the  distasted  golfer.  He  did  not  even  frequent  the 
Evening  Club,  where  his  colleague  Tait  (in  my  day) 
was  so  punctual  and  so  genial.  So  that  in  some  ways 
he  stood  outside  of  the  lighter  and  kindlier  life  of  his 
new  home.  I  should  not  like  to  say  that  he  was  gen- 
erally popular;  but  there  as  elsewhere,  those  who  knew 
him  well  enough  to  love  him,  loved  him  well.  And 
he,  upon  his  side,  liked  a  place  where  a  dinner  party 
was  not  of  necessity  unintellectual,  and  where  men 
stood  up  to  him  in  argument. 

The  presence  of  his  old  classmate,  Tait,  was  one  of 
his  early  attractions  to  the  chair;  and  now  that  Fleem- 
ing  is  gone  again,  Tait  still  remains,  ruling  and  really 
teaching  his  great  classes.  Sir  Robert  Christison  was 
an  old  friend  of  his  mother's;  Sir  Alexander  Grant,  Kel- 
land,  and  Sellar,  were  new  acquaintances  and  highly 
valued ;  and  these  too,  all  but  the  last,  have  been  taken 
from  their  friends  and  labours.  Death  has  been  busy 
in  the  Senatus.  I  will  speak  elsewhere  of  Fleeming's 
demeanour  to  his  students;  and  it  will  be  enough  to 
add  here  that  his  relations  with  his  colleagues  in  gene- 
ral were  pleasant  to  himself. 

Edinburgh,  then,  with  its  society,  its  university  work, 
its  delightful  scenery,  and  its  skating  in  the  winter,  was 
thenceforth  his  base  of  operations.  But  he  shot  mean- 
while erratic  in  many  directions:  twice  to  America,  as 
we  have  seen,  on  telegraph  voyages;  continually  to 
London  on  business ;  often  to  Paris ;  year  after  year  to 
the  Highlands  to  shoot,  to  fish,  to  learn  reels  and  Gae- 

'37 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

lie,  to  make  the  acquaintance  and  fall  in  love  with  the 
character  of  Highlanders;  and  once  to  Styria,  to  hunt 
chamois  and  dance  with  peasant  maidens.  All  the 
while,  he  was  pursuing  the  course  of  his  electrical 
studies,  making  fresh  inventions,  taking  up  the  phono- 
graph, filled  with  theories  of  graphic  representation; 
reading,  writing,  publishing,  founding  sanitary  associa- 
tions, interested  in  technical  education,  investigating 
the  laws  of  metre,  drawing,  acting,  directing  private 
theatricals,  going  a  long  way  to  see  an  actor  —  a  long 
way  to  see  a  picture;  in  the  very  bubble  of  the  tide- 
way of  contemporary  interests.  And  all  the  while  he 
was  busied  about  his  father  and  mother,  his  wife,  and 
in  particular  his  sons;  anxiously  watching,  anxiously 
guiding  these,  and  plunging  with  his  whole  fund  of 
youthfulness  into  their  sports  and  interests.  And  all 
the  while  he  was  himself  maturing  —  not  in  charac- 
ter or  body,  for  these  remained  young  —  but  in  the 
stocked  mind,  in  the  tolerant  knowledge  of  life  and 
man,  in  pious  acceptance  of  the  universe.  Here  is  a 
farrago  for  a  chapter:  here  is  a  world  of  interests  and 
activities,  human,  artistic,  social,  scientific,  at  each  of 
which  he  sprang  with  impetuous  pleasure,  on  each  of 
which  he  squandered  energy,  the  arrow  drawn  to  the 
head,  the  whole  intensity  of  his  spirit  bent,  for  the 
moment,  on  the  momentary  purpose.  It  was  this  that 
lent  such  unusual  interest  to  his  society,  so  that  no 
friend  of  his  can  forget  that  figure  of  Fleeming  coming 
charged  with  some  new  discovery:  it  is  this  that  makes 
his  character  so  difficult  to  represent.  Our  fathers,  upon 
some  difficult  theme,  would  invoke  the  Muse;  I  can 
but  appeal  to  the  imagination  of  the  reader.  When  I 

138 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

dwell  upon  some  one  thing,  he  must  bear  in  mind  it 
was  only  one  of  a  score;  that  the  unweariable  brain 
was  teeming  at  the  very  time  with  other  thoughts;  that 
the  good  heart  had  left  no  kind  duty  forgotten. 

I 

In  Edinburgh,  for  a  considerable  time,  Fleeming's 
family,  to  three  generations,  was  united :  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Austin  at  Hailes,  Captain  and  Mrs.  Jenkin  in  the  suburb 
of  Merchiston,  Fleeming  himself  in  the  city.  It  is  not 
every  family  that  could  risk  with  safety  such  close  in- 
terdomestic  dealings;  but  in  this  also  Fleeming  was 
particularly  favoured.  Even  the  two  extremes,  Mr. 
Austin  and  the  Captain,  drew  together.  It  is  pleasant 
to  find  that  each  of  the  old  gentlemen  set  a  high  value 
on  the  good  looks  of  the  other,  doubtless  also  on  his 
own ;  and  a  fine  picture  they  made  as  they  walked  the 
green  terrace  at  Hailes,  conversing  by  the  hour.  What 
they  talked  of  is  still  a  mystery  to  those  who  knew 
them ;  but  Mr.  Austin  always  declared  that  on  these  oc- 
casions he  learned  much.  To  both  of  these  families  of 
elders,  due  service  was  paid  of  attention;  to  both, 
Fleeming's  easy  circumstances  had  brought  joy;  and 
the  eyes  of  all  were  on  the  grandchildren.  In  Fleeming's 
scheme  of  duties,  those  of  the  family  stood  first;  a  man 
was  first  of  all  a  child,  nor  did  he  cease  to  be  so,  but 
only  took  on  added  obligations,  when  he  became  in 
turn  a  father.  The  care  of  his  parents  was  always  a 
first  thought  with  him,  and  their  gratification  his  de- 
light. And  the  care  of  his  sons,  as  it  was  always  a  grave 
subject  of  study  with  him,  and  an  affair  never  neglected, 

'39 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

so  it  brought  him  a  thousand  satisfactions.  "Hard 
work  they  are,"  as  he  once  wrote,  "  but  what  fit  work !" 
And  again:  "  O,  it's  a  cold  house  where  a  dog  is  the 
only  representative  of  a  child!"  Not  that  dogs  were 
despised ;  we  shall  drop  across  the  name  of  Jack,  the 
harum-scarum  Irish  terrier,  ere  we  have  done ;  his  own 
dog  Plato  went  up  with  him  daily  to  his  lectures,  and 
still  (like  other  friends)  feels  the  loss  and  looks  visibly 
for  the  reappearance  of  his  master;  and  Martin,  the  cat, 
Fleeming  has  himself  immortalized,  to  the  delight  of 
Mr.  Swinburne,  in  the  columns  of  the  Spectator.  In- 
deed there  was  nothing  in  which  men  take  interest,  in 
which  he  took  not  some;  and  yet  always  most  in  the 
strong  human  bonds,  ancient  as  the  race  and  woven  of 
delights  and  duties. 

He  was  even  an  anxious  father;  perhaps  that  is  the 
part  where  optimism  is  hardest  tested.  He  was 
eager  for  his  sons ;  eager  for  their  health,  whether  of 
mind  or  body ;  eager  for  their  education ;  in  that,  I  should 
have  thought,  too  eager.  But  he  kept  a  pleasant  face 
upon  all  things,  believed  in  play,  loved  it  himself,  shared 
boyishly  in  theirs,  and  knew  how  to  put  a  face  of  en- 
tertainment upon  business,  and  a  spirit  of  education  in- 
to entertainment.  If  he  was  to  test  the  progress  of  the 
three  boys,  this  advertisement  would  appear  in  their 
little  manuscript  paper: — "Notice:  The  Professor  of 
Engineering  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh  intends  at 
the  close  of  the  scholastic  year  to  hold  examinations  in 
the  following  subjects:  (i)  For  boys  in  the  fourth  class 
of  the  Academy — Geometry  and  Algebra;  (2)  For  boys 
at  Mr.  Henderson's  school  —  Dictation  and  Recitation; 
(3)  For  boys  taught  exclusively  by  their  mothers  — 

140 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Arithmetic  and  Reading. "  Prizes  were  given ;  but  what 
prize  would  be  so  conciliatory  as  this  boyish  little  joke? 
It  may  read  thin  here;  it  would  smack  racily  in  the  play- 
room. Whenever  his  sons  "started  a  new  fad"  (as 
one  of  them  writes  to  me)  they  "had  only  to  tell  him 
about  it,  and  he  was  at  once  interested  and  keen  to 
help."  He  would  discourage  them  in  nothing  unless  it 
was  hopelessly  too  hard  for  them ;  only,  if  there  was 
any  principle  of  science  involved,  they  must  understand 
the  principle;  and  whatever  was  attempted,  that  was  to 
be  done  thoroughly.  If  it  was  but  play,  if  it  was  but  a 
puppet  show  they  were  to  build,  he  set  them  the  example 
of  being  no  sluggard  in  play.  When  Frewen,  the  second 
son,  embarked  on  the  ambitious  design  to  make  an  engine 
for  a  toy  steamboat,  Fleeming  made  him  begin  with  a 
proper  drawing — doubtless  to  the  disgust  of  the  young 
engineer;  but  once  that  foundation  laid,  helped  in  the 
work  with  unflagging  gusto,  "tinkering  away,"  for 
hours,  and  assisted  at  the  final  trial  "in  the  big  bath  " 
with  no  less  excitement  than  the  boy.  "  He  would  take 
any  amount  of  trouble  to  help  us,"  writes  my  corre- 
spondent. "  We  never  felt  an  affair  was  complete  till 
we  had  called  him  to  see,  and  he  would  come  at  any 
time,  in  the  middle  of  any  work."  There  was  indeed 
one  recognized  playhour,  immediately  after  the  despatch 
of  the  day's  letters ;  and  the  boys  were  to  be  seen  wait- 
ing on  the  stairs  until  the  mail  should  be  ready  and  the 
fun  could  begin.  But  at  no  other  time  did  this  busy 
man  suffer  his  work  to  interfere  with  that  first  duty  to 
his  children;  and  there  is  a  pleasant  tale  of  the  inventive 
Master  Frewen,  engaged  at  the  time  upon  a  toy  crane, 
bringing  to  the  study  where  his  father  sat  at  work  a 

141 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

half-wound  reel  that  formed  some  part  of  his  design, 
and  observing,  "Papa,  you  might  finiss  windin'  this 
for  me;  I  am  so  very  busy  to-day." 

I  put  together  here  a  few  brief  extracts  from  Fleem- 
ing's  letters,  none  very  important  in  itself,  but  all  to- 
gether building  up  a  pleasant  picture  of  the  father  with 
his  sons. 

"Jan.  i$tbf  1875. — Frewen  contemplates  suspending 
soap  bubbles  by  silk  threads  for  experimental  purposes. 
I  don't  think  he  will  manage  that.  Bernard"  [the 
youngest]  "  volunteered  to  blow  the  bubbles  with  en- 
thusiasm." 

"Jan.  I'jtb. —  I  am  learning  a  great  deal  of  electro- 
statics in  consequence  of  the  perpetual  cross-examina- 
tion to  which  I  am  subjected.  I  long  for  you  on  many 
grounds,  but  one  is  that  I  may  not  be  obliged  to  deliver 
a  running  lecture  on  abstract  points  of  science,  subject 
to  cross-examination  by  two  acute  students.  Bernie 
does  not  cross-examine  much ;  but  if  anyone  gets  dis- 
comfited, he  laughs  a  sort  of  little  silver-whistle  giggle, 
which  is  trying  to  the  unhappy  blunderer." 

"May  qtb. —  Frewen  is  deep  in  parachutes.  I  beg 
him  not  to  drop  from  the  top  landing  in  one  of  his  own 
making." 

"June  6tb,  1876. —  Frewen's  crank  axle  is  a  failure 
just  at  present  —  but  he  bears  up." 

"June  \4tb. — The  boys  enjoy  their  riding.  It  gets 
them  whole  funds  of  adventures.  One  of  their  caps 
falling  off  is  matter  for  delightful  reminiscences;  and 
when  a  horse  breaks  his  step,  the  occurrence  becomes  a 
rear,  a  shy,  or  a  plunge  as  they  talk  it  over.  Austin, 
with  quiet  confidence,  speaks  of  the  greater  pleasure  in 

142 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

riding  a  spirited  horse,  even  if  he  does  give  a  little 
trouble.  It  is  the  stolid  brute  that  he  dislikes.  (N.  B. 
You  can  still  see  six  inches  between  him  and  the  sad- 
dle when  his  pony  trots.)  I  listen  and  sympathise  and 
throw  out  no  hint  that  their  achievements  are  not  really 
great." 

"June  i8tb. —  Bernard  is  much  impressed  by  the 
fact  that  I  can  be  useful  to  Frewen  about  the  steam- 
boat "  [which  the  latter  irrepressible  inventor  was  mak- 
ing]. "  He  says,  quite  with  awe,  '  He  would  not  have 
got  on  nearly  so  well  if  you  had  not  helped  him.'" 

"June  2ith. —  I  do  not  see  what  I  could  do  without 
Austin.  He  talks  so  pleasantly  and  is  so  truly  good  all 
through." 

"July  *]tb. —  My  chief  difficulty  with  Austin  is  to  get 
him  measured  for  a  pair  of  trousers.  Hitherto  I  have 
failed,  but  I  keep  a  stout  heart  and  mean  to  succeed. 
Frewen  the  observer,  in  describing  the  paces  of  two 
horses,  says,  '  Polly  takes  twenty-seven  steps  to  get 
round  the  school.  I  couldn't  count  Sophy,  but  she 
takes  more  than  a  hundred.' " 

"Feb.  i8/#,  1877. —  We  all  feel  very  lonely  without 
you.  Frewen  had  to  come  up  and  sit  in  my  room  for 
company  last  night  and  I  actually  kissed  him,  a  thing 
that  has  not  occurred  for  years.  Jack,  poor  fellow, 
bears  it  as  well  as  he  can,  and  has  taken  the  opportu- 
nity of  having  a  fester  on  his  foot,  so  he  is  lame  and  has 
it  bathed,  and  this  occupies  his  thoughts  a  good  deal." 

"Feb.  igth. — As  to  Mill,  Austin  has  not  got  the  list 
yet.  I  think  it  will  prejudice  him  very  much  against 
Mill — but  that  is  not  my  affair.  Education  of  that 
kind!  ...  I  would  as  soon  cram  my  boys  with  food 

'43 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

and  boast  of  the  pounds  they  had  eaten,  as  cram  them 
with  literature." 

But  if  Fleeming  was  an  anxious  father,  he  did  not 
suffer  his  anxiety  to  prevent  the  boys  from  any  manly 
or  even  dangerous  pursuit.  Whatever  it  might  occur 
to  them  to  try,  he  would  carefully  show  them  how  to 
do  it,  explain  the  risks,  and  then  either  share  the  dan- 
ger himself  or,  if  that  were  not  possible,  stand  aside 
and  wait  the  event  with  that  unhappy  courage  of  the 
looker-on.  He  was  a  good  swimmer,  and  taught  them 
to  swim.  He  thoroughly  loved  all  manly  exercises; 
and  during  their  holidays,  and  principally  in  the  High- 
lands, helped  and  encouraged  them  to  excel  in  as  many 
as  possible — to  shoot,  to  fish,  to  walk,  to  pull  an  oar,  to 
hand,  reef  and  steer,  and  to  run  a  steam  launch.  In  all 
of  these,  and  in  all  parts  of  Highland  life,  he  shared  de- 
lightedly. He  was  well  on  to  forty  when  he  took  once 
more  to  shooting,  he  was  forty-three  when  he  killed 
his  first  salmon,  but  no  boy  could  have  more  single- 
mindedly  rejoiced  in  these  pursuits.  His  growing  love 
for  the  Highland  character,  perhaps  also  a  sense  of  the 
difficulty  of  the  task,  led  him  to  take  up  at  forty-one 
the  study  of  Gaelic;  in  which  he  made  some  shadow  of 
progress,  but  not  much :  the  fastnesses  of  that  elusive 
speech  retaining  to  the  last  their  independence.  At  the 
house  of  his  friend  Mrs.  Blackburn,  who  plays  the  part 
of  a  Highland  lady  as  to  the  manner  born,  he  learned 
the  delightful  custom  of  kitchen  dances,  which  became 
the  rule  at  his  own  house  and  brought  him  into  yet 
nearer  contact  with  his  neighbors.  And  thus  at  forty- 
two,  he  began  to  learn  the  reel;  a  study  to  which  he 
brought  his  usual  smiling  earnestness;  and  the  steps, 

144 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

diagrammatically  represented  by  his  own  hand,  are  be- 
fore me  as  I  write. 

It  was  in  1879  that  a  new  feature  was  added  to  the 
Highland  life:  a  steam  launch,  called  the  Purgle,  the 
Styrian  corruption  of  Walpurga,  after  a  friend  to  be 
hereafter  mentioned.  "The  steam  launch  goes," 
Fleeming  wrote.  "I  wish  you  had  been  present  to 
describe  two  scenes  of  which  she  has  been  the  occa- 
sion already:  one  during  which  the  population  of  Ulla- 
pool,  to  a  baby,  was  harnessed  to  her  hurrahing  —  and 
the  other  in  which  the  same  population  sat  with  its 
legs  over  a  little  pier,  watching  Frewen  and  Bernie 
getting  up  steam  for  the  first  time."  The  Purgle  was 
got  with  educational  intent;  and  it  served  its  pur- 
pose so  well,  and  the  boys  knew  their  business  so 
practically,  that  when  the  summer  was  at  an  end, 
Fleeming,  Mrs.  Jenkin,  Frewen  the  engineer,  Bernard 
the  stoker,  and  Kenneth  Robertson,  a  Highland  sea- 
man, set  forth  in  her  to  make  the  passage  south.  The 
first  morning  they  got  from  Loch  Broom  into  Gruinard 
bay,  where  they  lunched  upon  an  island;  but  the  wind 
blowing  up  in  the  afternoon,  with  sheets  of  rain,  it  was 
found  impossible  to  beat  to  sea;  and  very  much  in  the 
situation  of  castaways  upon  an  unknown  coast,  the 
party  landed  at  the  mouth  of  Gruinard  river.  A  shoot- 
ing lodge  was  spied  among  the  trees;  there  Fleeming 
went;  and  though  the  master,  Mr.  Murray,  was  from 
home,  though  the  two  Jenkin  boys  were  of  course 
as  black  as  colliers,  and  all  the  castaways  so  wetted 
through  that,  as  they  stood  in  the  passage,  pools 
formed  about  their  feet  and  ran  before  them  into  the 
house,  yet  Mrs.  Murray  kindly  entertained  them  for  the 

'45 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

night.  On  the  morrow,  however,  visitors  were  to  ar- 
rive; there  would  be  no  room  and,  in  so  out-of-the- 
way  a  spot,  most  probably  no  food  for  the  crew  of  the 
Purgle;  and  on  the  morrow  about  noon,  with  the  bay 
white  with  spindrift  and  the  wind  so  strong  that  one 
could  scarcely  stand  against  it,  they  got  up  steam  and 
skulked  under  the  land  as  far  as  Sanda  Bay.  Here  they 
crept  into  a  seaside  cave,  and  cooked  some  food;  but 
the  weather  now  freshening  to  a  gale,  it  was  plain  they 
must  moor  the  launch  where  she  was,  and  find  their 
way  overland  to  some  place  of  shelter.  Even  to  get 
their  baggage  from  on  board  was  no  light  business; 
for  the  dingy  was  blown  so  far  to  leeward  every  trip, 
that  they  must  carry  her  back  by  hand  along  the  beach. 
But  this  once  managed,  and  a  cart  procured  in  the 
neighbourhood,  they  were  able  to  spend  the  night  in 
a  pot-house  on  Ault  Bea.  Next  day,  the  sea  was  un- 
approachable; but  the  next  they  had  a  pleasant  pas- 
sage to  Poolewe,  hugging  the  cliffs,  the  falling  swell 
bursting  close  by  them  in  the  gullies,  and  the  black 
scarts  that  sat  like  ornaments  on  the  top  of  every  stack 
and  pinnacle  looking  down  into  the  Purgle  as  she 
passed.  The  climate  of  Scotland  had  not  done  with 
them  yet:  for  three  days  they  lay  stormstayed  in  Pool- 
ewe,  and  when  they  put  to  sea  on  the  morning  of  the 
fourth,  the  sailors  prayed  them  for  God's  sake  not  to 
attempt  the  passage.  Their  setting  out  was  indeed 
merely  tentative;  but  presently  they  had  gone  too  far 
to  return,  and  found  themselves  committed  to  double 
Rhu  Reay  with  a  foul  wind  and  a  cross  sea.  From 
half-past  eleven  in  the  morning  until  half-past  five  at 
night,  they  were  in  immediate  and  unceasing  danger. 

146 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Upon  the  least  mishap,  the  Purgle  must  either  have 
been  swamped  by  the  seas  or  bulged  upon  the  cliffs 
of  that  rude  headland.  Fleeming  and  Robertson  took 
turns  baling  and  steering;  Mrs.  Jenkin,  so  violent  was 
the  commotion  of  the  boat,  held  on  with  both  hands; 
Frewen,  by  Robertson's  direction,  ran  the  engine, 
slacking  and  pressing  her  to  meet  the  seas;  and  Ber- 
nard, only  twelve  years  old,  deadly  sea-sick,  and  con- 
tinually thrown  against  the  boiler,  so  that  he  was 
found  next  day  to  be  covered  with  burns,  yet  kept  an 
even  fire.  It  was  a  very  thankful  party  that  sat  down 
that  evening  to  meat  in  the  Hotel  at  Gairloch.  And 
perhaps,  although  the  thing  was  new  in  the  family, 
no  one  was  much  surprised  when  Fleeming  said  grace 
over  that  meal.  Thenceforward  he  continued  to  ob- 
serve the  form,  so  that  there  was  kept  alive  in  his 
house  a  grateful  memory  of  peril  and  deliverance.  But 
there  was  nothing  of  the  muffin  Fleeming;  he  thought 
it  a  good  thing  to  escape  death,  but  a  becoming  and  a 
healthful  thing  to  run  the  risk  of  it;  and  what  is  rarer, 
that  which  he  thought  for  himself,  he  thought  for  his 
family  also.  In  spite  of  the  terrors  of  Rhu  Reay,  the 
cruise  was  persevered  in  and  brought  to  an  end  under 
happier  conditions. 

One  year,  instead  of  the  Highlands,  Alt  Aussee,  in  the 
Steiermark,  was  chosen  for  the  holidays;  and  the  place, 
the  people,  and  the  life  delighted  Fleeming.  He  worked 
hard  at  German,  which  he  had  much  forgotten  since  he 
was  a  boy;  and  what  is  highly  characteristic,  equally 
hard  at  the  patois,  in  which  he  learned  to  excel.  He 
won  a  prize  at  a  Schutzen-fest;  and  though  he  hunted 
chamois  without  much  success,  brought  down  more 

147 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

interesting  game  in  the  shape  of  the  Styrian  peasants, 
and  in  particular  of  his  gillie,  Joseph.  This  Joseph  was 
much  of  a  character;  and  his  appreciations  of  Fleeming 
have  a  fine  note  of  their  own.  The  bringing  up  of  the 
boys  he  deigned  to  approve  of:  "fast  so  gut  wie  ein 
Bauer,"  was  his  trenchant  criticism.  The  attention 
and  courtly  respect  with  which  Fleeming  surrounded 
his  wife,  was  something  of  a  puzzle  to  the  philosophic 
gillie;  he  announced  in  the  village  that  Mrs.  Jenkin  — 
die  silberne  Frau,  as  the  folk  had  prettily  named  her 
from  some  silver  ornaments — was  a  "  geborene  Grafin  " 
who  had  married  beneath  her;  and  when  Fleeming  ex- 
plained what  he  called  the  English  theory  (though  in- 
deed it  was  quite  his  own)  of  married  relations,  Joseph, 
admiring  but  unconvinced,  avowed  it  was  " gar  schdn." 
Joseph's  cousin,  Walpurga  Moser,  to  an  orchestra  of 
clarionet  and  zither,  taught  the  family  the  country 
dances,  the  Steierisch  and  the  Landler,  and  gained  their 
hearts  during  the  lessons.  Her  sister  Loys,  too,  who 
was  up  at  the  Alp  with  the  cattle,  came  down  to  church 
on  Sundays,  made  acquaintance  with  the  Jenkins,  and 
must  have  them  up  to  see  the  sunrise  from  her  house 
upon  the  Loser,  where  they  had  supper  and  all  slept  in 
the  loft  among  the  hay.  The  Mosers  were  not  lost 
sight  of;  Walpurga  still  corresponds  with  Mrs.  Jenkin, 
and  it  was  a  late  pleasure  of  Fleeming's  to  choose  and 
despatch  a  wedding  present  for  his  little  mountain 
friend.  This  visit  was  brought  to  an  end  by  a  ball  in 
the  big  inn  parlour;  the  refreshments  chosen,  the  list 
of  guests  drawn  up,  by  Joseph;  the  best  music  of  the 
place  in  attendance;  and  hosts  and  guests  in  their  best 
clothes.  The  ball  was  opened  by  Mrs.  Jenkin  dancing 

•48 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEM1NG  JENK1N 

Steierisch  with  a  lordly  Bauer,  in  grey  and  silver  and 
with  a  plumed  hat;  and  Fleeming  followed  with  Wal- 
purga  Moser. 

There  ran  a  principle  through  all  these  holiday  plea- 
sures. In  Styria  as  in  the  Highlands,  the  same  course  was 
followed :  Fleeming  threw  himself  as  fully  as  he  could 
into  the  life  and  occupations  of  the  native  people,  study- 
ing everywhere  their  dances  and  their  language,  and 
conforming,  always  with  pleasure,  to  their  rustic  eti- 
quette. Just  as  the  ball  at  Alt  Aussee  was  designed 
for  the  taste  of  Joseph,  the  parting  feast  at  Attadale  was 
ordered  in  every  particular  to  the  taste  of  Murdoch  the 
Keeper.  Fleeming  was  not  one  of  the  common,  so- 
called  gentlemen,  who  take  the  tricks  of  their  own 
coterie  to  be  eternal  principles  of  taste.  He  was  aware, 
on  the  other  hand,  that  rustic  people  dwelling  in  their 
own  places  follow  ancient  rules  with  fastidious  preci- 
sion, and  are  easily  shocked  and  embarrassed  by  what 
(if  they  used  the  word)  they  would  have  to  call  the 
vulgarity  of  visitors  from  town.  And  he,  who  was  so 
cavalier  with  men  of  his  own  class,  was  sedulous  to 
shield  the  more  tender  feelings  of  the  peasant;  he,  who 
could  be  so  trying  in  a  drawing-room,  was  even  punc- 
tilious in  the  cottage.  It  was  in  all  respects  a  happy 
virtue.  It  renewed  his  life,  during  these  holidays,  in 
all  particulars.  It  often  entertained  him  with  the  dis- 
covery of  strange  survivals;  as  when,  by  the  orders  of 
Murdoch,  Mrs.  Jenkin  must  publicly  taste  of  every  dish 
before  it  was  set  before  her  guests.  And  thus  to  throw 
himself  into  a  fresh  life  and  a  new  school  of  manners 
was  a  grateful  exercise  of  Fleeming's  mimetic  instinct; 
and  to  the  pleasures  of  the  open  air,  of  hardships  sup- 

149 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

ported,  of  dexterities  improved  and  displayed,  and  of 
plain  and  elegant  society,  added  a  spice  of  drama. 

II 

Fleeming  was  all  his  life  a  lover  of  the  play  and  all 
that  belonged  to  it.  Dramatic  literature  he  knew  fully. 
He  was  one  of  the  not  very  numerous  people  who  can 
read  a  play :  a  knack,  the  fruit  of  much  knowledge  and 
some  imagination,  comparable  to  that  of  reading  score. 
Few  men  better  understood  the  artificial  principles  on 
which  a  play  is  good  or  bad ;  few  more  unaffectedly  en- 
joyed a  piece  of  any  merit  of  construction.  His  own 
play  was  conceived  with  a  double  design ;  for  he  had  long 
been  filled  with  his  theory  of  the  true  story  of  Griselda; 
used  to  gird  at  Father  Chaucer  for  his  misconception; 
and  was,  perhaps  first  of  all,  moved  by  the  desire  to  do 
justice  to  the  Marquis  of  Saluces,  and  perhaps  only  in 
the  second  place,  by  the  wish  to  treat  a  story  (as  he 
phrased  it)  like  a  sum  in  arithmetic.  I  do  not  think  he 
quite  succeeded;  but  I  must  own  myself  no  fit  judge. 
Fleeming  and  I  were  teacher  and  taught  as  to  the  prin- 
ciples, disputatious  rivals  in  the  practice,  of  dramatic 
writing. 

Acting  had  always,  ever  since  Rachel  and  the  Mar- 
seillaise, a  particular  power  on  him.  "If  I  do  not  cry 
at  the  play,"  he  used  to  say,  "I  want  to  have  my 
money  back."  Even  from  a  poor  play  with  poor  actors, 
he  could  draw  pleasure.  "  Giacometti's  Eluabetta,"  I 
find  him  writing,  "  fetched  the  house  vastly.  Poor 
Queen  Elizabeth!  And  yet  it  was  a  little  good."  And 
again,  after  a  night  of  Salvini:  "I  do  not  suppose  any 

150 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENK1N 

one  with  feelings  could  sit  out  Othello,  if  lago  and  Des- 
demona  were  acted."  Salvini  was,  in  his  view,  the 
greatest  actor  he  had  seen.  We  were  all  indeed  moved 
and  bettered  by  the  visit  of  that  wonderful  man. — "I 
declare  I  feel  as  if  I  could  pray !  "  cried  one  of  us,  on  the 
return  from  Hamlet. — "That  is  prayer,"  said  Fleeming. 
W.  B.  Hole  and  I,  in  a  fine  enthusiasm  of  gratitude, 
determined  to  draw  up  an  address  to  Salvini,  did  so, 
and  carried  it  to  Fleeming;  and  I  shall  never  forget  with 
what  coldness  he  heard  and  deleted  the  eloquence  of 
our  draft,  nor  with  what  spirit  (our  vanities  once  pro- 
perly mortified)  he  threw  himself  into  the  business  of 
collecting  signatures.  It  was  his  part,  on  the  ground 
of  his  Italian,  to  see  and  arrange  with  the  actor;  it  was 
mine  to  write  in  the  Academy  a  notice  of  the  first  per- 
formance of  Macbeth.  Fleeming  opened  the  paper,  read 
so  far,  and  flung  it  on  the  floor.  "No,"  he  cried, 
"that  won't  do.  You  were  thinking  of  yourself,  not 
of  Salvini!"  The  criticism  was  shrewd  as  usual,  but 
it  was  unfair  through  ignorance;  it  was  not  of  myself 
that  I  was  thinking,  but  of  the  difficulties  of  my  trade 
which  I  had  not  well  mastered.  Another  unalloyed 
dramatic  pleasure  which  Fleeming  and  I  shared  the  year 
of  the  Paris  Exposition,  was  the  Marquis  de  Vittemer, 
that  blameless  play,  performed  by  Madeleine  Brohan, 
Delaunay,  Worms,  and  Broisat  —  an  actress,  in  such 
parts  at  least,  to  whom  I  have  never  seen  full  justice 
rendered.  He  had  his  fill  of  weeping  on  that  occasion; 
and  when  the  piece  was  at  an  end,  in  front  of  a  caf6,  in 
the  mild  midnight  air,  we  had  our  fill  of  talk  about  the 
art  of  acting. 
But  what  gave  the  stage  so  strong  a  hold  on  Fleem- 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

ported,  of  dexterities  improved  and  displayed,  and  of 
plain  and  elegant  society,  added  a  spice  of  drama. 


II 

Fleeming  was  all  his  life  a  lover  of  the  play  and  all 
that  belonged  to  it.  Dramatic  literature  he  knew  fully. 
He  was  one  of  the  not  very  numerous  people  who  can 
read  a  play:  a  knack,  the  fruit  of  much  knowledge  and 
some  imagination,  comparable  to  that  of  reading  score. 
Few  men  better  understood  the  artificial  principles  on 
which  a  play  is  good  or  bad;  few  more  unaffectedly  en- 
joyed a  piece  of  any  merit  of  construction.  His  own 
play  was  conceived  with  a  double  design ;  for  he  had  long 
been  filled  with  his  theory  of  the  true  story  of  Griselda; 
used  to  gird  at  Father  Chaucer  for  his  misconception; 
and  was,  perhaps  first  of  all,  moved  by  the  desire  to  do 
justice  to  the  Marquis  of  Saluces,  and  perhaps  only  in 
the  second  place,  by  the  wish  to  treat  a  story  (as  he 
phrased  it)  like  a  sum  in  arithmetic.  I  do  not  think  he 
quite  succeeded;  but  I  must  own  myself  no  fit  judge. 
Fleeming  and  I  were  teacher  and  taught  as  to  the  prin- 
ciples, disputatious  rivals  in  the  practice,  of  dramatic 
writing. 

Acting  had  always,  ever  since  Rachel  and  the  Mar- 
seillaise, a  particular  power  on  him.  "If  I  do  not  cry 
at  the  play,"  he  used  to  say,  "I  want  to  have  my 
money  back."  Even  from  a  poor  play  with  poor  actors, 
he  could  draw  pleasure.  "  Giacometti's  Elisabetta,"  I 
find  him  writing,  "  fetched  the  house  vastly.  Poor 
Queen  Elizabeth!  And  yet  it  was  a  little  good."  And 
again,  after  a  night  of  Salvini:  "I  do  not  suppose  any 

150 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

one  with  feelings  could  sit  out  Othello,  if  lago  and  Des- 
demona  were  acted."  Salvini  was,  in  his  view,  the 
greatest  actor  he  had  seen.  We  were  all  indeed  moved 
and  bettered  by  the  visit  of  that  wonderful  man. — "I 
declare  I  feel  as  if  I  could  pray !  "  cried  one  of  us,  on  the 
return  from  Hamlet. — "That  is  prayer,"  said  Fleeming. 
W.  B.  Hole  and  I,  in  a  fine  enthusiasm  of  gratitude, 
determined  to  draw  up  an  address  to  Salvini,  did  so, 
and  carried  it  to  Fleeming;  and  I  shall  never  forget  with 
what  coldness  he  heard  and  deleted  the  eloquence  of 
our  draft,  nor  with  what  spirit  (our  vanities  once  pro- 
perly mortified)  he  threw  himself  into  the  business  of 
collecting  signatures.  It  was  his  part,  on  the  ground 
of  his  Italian,  to  see  and  arrange  with  the  actor;  it  was 
mine  to  write  in  the  Academy  a  notice  of  the  first  per- 
formance of  Macbeth.  Fleeming  opened  the  paper,  read 
so  far,  and  flung  it  on  the  floor.  "No,"  he  cried, 
"that  won't  do.  You  were  thinking  of  yourself,  not 
of  Salvini!"  The  criticism  was  shrewd  as  usual,  but 
it  was  unfair  through  ignorance;  it  was  not  of  myself 
that  I  was  thinking,  but  of  the  difficulties  of  my  trade 
which  I  had  not  well  mastered.  Another  unalloyed 
dramatic  pleasure  which  Fleeming  and  I  shared  the  year 
of  the  Paris  Exposition,  was  the  Marquis  de  Vittemer, 
that  blameless  play,  performed  by  Madeleine  Brohan, 
Delaunay,  Worms,  and  Broisat  —  an  actress,  in  such 
parts  at  least,  to  whom  I  have  never  seen  full  justice 
rendered.  He  had  his  fill  of  weeping  on  that  occasion; 
and  when  the  piece  was  at  an  end,  in  front  of  a  caf<§,  in 
the  mild  midnight  air,  we  had  our  fill  of  talk  about  the 
art  of  acting. 

But  what  gave  the  stage  so  strong  a  hold  on  Fleem- 
15 « 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

ing  was  an  inheritance  from  Norwich,  from  Edward 
Barron,  and  from  Enfield  of  the  Speaker.  The  theatre 
was  one  of  Edward  Barren's  elegant  hobbies;  he  read 
plays,  as  became  Enfield's  son-in-law,  with  a  good 
discretion ;  he  wrote  plays  for  his  family,  in  which  Eliza 
Barron  used  to  shine  in  the  chief  parts;  and  later  in  life, 
after  the  Norwich  home  was  broken  up,  his  little  grand- 
daughter would  sit  behind  him  in  a  great  armchair,  and 
be  introduced,  with  his  stately  elocution,  to  the  world 
of  dramatic  literature.  From  this,  in  a  direct  line,  we 
can  deduce  the  charades  at  Claygate;  and  after  money 
came,  in  the  Edinburgh  days,  that  private  theatre  which 
took  up  so  much  of  Fleeming's  energy  and  thought. 
The  company  —  Mr.  and  Mrs.  R.  O.  Carter  of  Colwall, 
W.  B.  Hole,  Captain  Charles  Douglas,  Mr.  Kunz,  Mr. 
Burnett,  Professor  Lewis  Campbell,  Mr.  Charles  Baxter, 
and  many  more  —  made  a  charming  society  for  them- 
selves and  gave  pleasure  to  their  audience.  Mr.  Carter 
in  Sir  Toby  Belch  it  would  be  hard  to  beat.  Mr.  Hole 
in  broad  farce,  or  as  the  herald  in  the  TracUnice,  showed 
true  stage  talent.  As  for  Mrs.  Jenkin,  it  was  for  her  the 
rest  of  us  existed  and  were  forgiven ;  her  powers  were 
an  endless  spring  of  pride  and  pleasure  to  her  husband; 
he  spent  hours  hearing  and  schooling  her  in  private; 
and  when  it  came  to  the  performance,  though  there 
was  perhaps  no  one  in  the  audience  more  critical,  none 
was  more  moved  than  Fleeming.  The  rest  of  us  did 
not  aspire  so  high.  There  were  always  five  perform- 
ances and  weeks  of  busy  rehearsal ;  and  whether  we 
came  to  sit  and  stifle  as  the  prompter,  to  be  the  dumb 
(or  rather  the  inarticulate)  recipients  of  Carter's  dog 
whip  in  the  Taming  of  the  Sbrew,  or  having  earned  our 

153 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

spurs,  to  lose  one  more  illusion  in  a  leading  part,  we 
were  always  sure  at  least  of  a  long  and  an  exciting  hol- 
iday in  mirthful  company. 

In  this  laborious  annual  diversion,  Fleeming's  part 
was  large.  I  never  thought  him  an  actor,  but  he  was 
something  of  a  mimic,  which  stood  him  in  stead.  Thus 
he  had  seen  Got  in  Poirier;  and  his  own  Poirier,  when 
he  came  to  play  it,  breathed  meritoriously  of  the  model. 
The  last  part  I  saw  him  play  was  Triplet,  and  at  first  I 
thought  it  promised  well.  But  alas  !  the  boys  went  for 
a  holiday,  missed  a  train,  and  were  not  heard  of  at 
home  till  late  at  night.  Poor  Fleeming,  the  man  who 
never  hesitated  to  give  his  sons  a  chisel  or  a  gun,  or  to 
send  them  abroad  in  a  canoe  or  on  a  horse,  toiled  all  day 
at  his  rehearsal,  growing  hourly  paler,  Triplet  growing 
hourly  less  meritorious.  And  though  the  return  of  the 
children,  none  the  worse  for  their  little  adventure, 
brought  the  colour  back  into  his  face,  it  could  not  restore 
him  to  his  part.  I  remember  finding  him  seated  on  the 
stairs  in  some  rare  moment  of  quiet  during  the  subse- 
quent performances.  "Hullo,  Jenkin,"  said  I,  "you 
look  down  in  the  mouth." — "My  dear  boy,"  said  he, 
"  haven't  you  heard  me  ?  I  have  not  one  decent  intona- 
tion from  beginning  to  end." 

But  indeed  he  never  supposed  himself  an  actor;  took 
a  part,  when  he  took  any,  merely  for  convenience,  as 
one  takes  a  hand  at  whist;  and  found  his  true  service 
and  pleasure  in  the  more  congenial  business  of  the 
manager.  Augier,  Racine,  Shakespeare,  Aristophanes 
in  Hookham  Frere's  translation,  Sophocles  and  ^Eschy- 
lus  in  Lewis  Campbell's,  such  were  some  of  the  authors 
whom  he  introduced  to  his  public.  In  putting  these 

153 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

dwellings  of  the  poor.  In  this  hope  he  was  disappointed ; 
but  in  all  other  ways  the  scheme  exceedingly  prospered, 
associations  sprang  up  and  continue  to  spring  up  in 
many  quarters,  and  wherever  tried  they  have  been  found 
of  use. 

Here,  then,  was  a  serious  employment;  it  has  proved 
highly  useful  to  mankind;  and  it  was  begun  besides,  in 
a  mood  of  bitterness,  under  the  shock  of  what  Fleeming 
would  so  sensitively  feel  —  the  death  of  a  whole  family 
of  children.  Yet  it  was  gone  upon  like  a  holiday  jaunt. 
I  read  in  Colonel  Fergusson's  letter  that  his  schoolmates 
bantered  him  when  he  began  to  broach  his  scheme;  so 
did  I  at  first,  and  he  took  the  banter  as  he  always  did 
with  enjoyment,  until  he  suddenly  posed  me  with  the 
question:  "And  now  do  you  see  any  other  jokes  to 
make?  Well,  then,"  said  he,  "that's  all  right.  I 
wanted  you  to  have  your  fun  out  first;  now  we  can  be 
serious."  And  then  with  a  glowing  heat  of  pleasure, 
he  laid  his  plans  before  me,  revelling  in  the  details, 
revelling  in  hope.  It  was  as  he  wrote  about  the  joy  of 
electrical  experiment:  "What shall  I  compare  them  to? 
A  new  song  ?  —  a  Greek  play  ?  "  Delight  attended  the 
exercise  of  all  his  powers;  delight  painted  the  future. 
Of  these  ideal  visions,  some  (as  I  have  said)  failed  of 
their  fruition.  And  the  illusion  was  characteristic.  Fleem- 
ing believed  we  had  only  to  make  a  virtue  cheap  and 
easy,  and  then  all  would  practise  it;  that  for  an  end 
unquestionably  good,  men  would  not  grudge  a  little 
trouble  and  a  little  money,  though  they  might  stumble 
at  laborious  pains  and  generous  sacrifices.  He  could 
not  believe  in  any  resolute  badness.  "  I  cannot  quite 
say,"  he  wrote  in  his  young  manhood,  "that  I  think 

156 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

there  is  no  sin  or  misery.  This  I  can  say :  I  do  not  re- 
member one  single  malicious  act  done  to  myself.  In 
fact  it  is  rather  awkward  when  I  have  to  say  the  Lord's 
Prayer.  I  have  nobody's  trespasses  to  forgive."  And  to 
the  point,  I  remember  one  of  our  discussions.  I  said  it 
was  a  dangerous  error  not  to  admit  there  were  bad  peo- 
ple ;  he,  that  it  was  only  a  confession  of  blindness  on  our 
part,  and  that  we  probably  called  others  bad  only  so 
far  as  we  were  wrapped  in  ourselves  and  lacking  in  the 
transmigratory  forces  of  imagination.  I  undertook  to 
describe  to  him  three  persons  irredeemably  bad  and 
whom  he  should  admit  to  be  so.  In  the  first  case,  he 
denied  my  evidence:  "You  cannot  judge  a  man  upon 
such  testimony,"  said  he.  For  the  second,  he  owned 
it  made  him  sick  to  hear  the  tale;  but  then  there  was 
no  spark  of  malice,  it  was  mere  weakness  I  had  de- 
scribed, and  he  had  never  denied  nor  thought  to  set  a 
limit  to  man's  weakness.  At  my  third  gentleman,  he 
struck  his  colours.  "Yes,"  said  he,  "  I'm  afraid  that  is 
a  bad  man."  And  then  looking  at  me  shrewdly:  "I 
wonder  if  it  isn't  a  very  unfortunate  thing  for  you  to 
have  met  him."  I  showed  him  radiantly  how  it  was  the 
world  we  must  know,  the  world  as  it  was,  not  a  world 
expurgated  and  prettified  with  optimistic  rainbows. 
"Yes,  yes,"  said  he;  "  but  this  badness  is  such  an  easy, 
lazy  explanation.  Won't  you  be  tempted  to  use  it,  in- 
stead of  trying  to  understand  people?" 

In  the  year  1878,  he  took  a  passionate  fancy  for  the 
phonograph:  it  was  a  toy  after  his  heart,  a  toy  that 
touched  the  skirts  of  life,  art,  and  science,  a  toy  prolific 
of  problems  and  theories.  Something  fell  to  be  done 
for  a  University  Cricket  Ground  Bazaar.  "  And  the 

•57 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

thought  struck  him,"  Mr.  Ewing  writes  to  me,  "  to  ex- 
hibit Edison's  phonograph,  then  the  very  newest  scien- 
tific marvel.  The  instrument  itself  was  not  to  be  pur- 
chased—  I  think  no  specimen  had  then  crossed  the 
Atlantic  —  but  a  copy  of  the  Times  with  an  account  of 
it  was  at  hand,  and  by  the  help  of  this  we  made  a  phon- 
ograph which  to  our  great  joy  talked,  and  talked,  too, 
with  the  purest  American  accent.  It  was  so  good  that 
a  second  instrument  was  got  ready  forthwith.  Both 
were  shown  at  the  Bazaar:  one  by  Mrs.  Jenkin  to  peo- 
ple willing  to  pay  half  a  crown  for  a  private  view  and 
the  privilege  of  hearing  their  own  voices,  while  Jenkin, 
perfervid  as  usual,  gave  half-hourly  lectures  on  the 
other  in  an  adjoining  room  —  I,  as  his  lieutenant,  taking 
turns.  The  thing  was  in  its  way  a  little  triumph.  A 
few  of  the  visitors  were  deaf,  and  hugged  the  belief 
that  they  were  the  victims  of  a  new  kind  of  fancy-fair 
swindle.  Of  the  others,  many  who  came  to  scoff  re- 
mained to  take  raffle  tickets;  and  one  of  the  phono- 
graphs was  finally  disposed  of  in  this  way,  falling,  by  a 
happy  freak  of  the  ballot-box,  into  the  hands  of  Sir 
William  Thomson."  The  other  remained  in  Fleeming's 
hands,  and  was  a  source  of  infinite  occupation.  Once 
it  was  sent  to  London,  "to  bring  back  on  the  tinfoil 
the  tones  of  a  lady  distinguished  for  clear  vocalisations ; 
at  another  time  Sir  Robert  Christison  was  brought  in  to 
contribute  his  powerful  bass  " ;  and  there  scarcely  came 
a  visitor  about  the  house,  but  he  was  made  the  subject 
of  experiment.  The  visitors,  I  am  afraid,  took  their 
parts  lightly :  Mr.  Hole  and  I,  with  unscientific  laughter, 
commemorating  various  shades  of  Scotch  accent,  or 
proposing  to  "teach  the  poor  dumb  animal  to  swear." 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

But  Fleeming  and  Mr.  Ewing,  when  we  butterflies 
were  gone,  were  laboriously  ardent.  Many  thoughts 
that  occupied  the  later  years  of  my  friend  were  caught 
from  the  small  utterance  of  that  toy.  Thence  came  his 
inquiries  into  the  roots  of  articulate  language  and  the 
foundations  of  literary  art;  his  papers  on  vowel  sounds, 
his  papers  in  the  Saturday  Review  upon  the  laws  of 
verse,  and  many  a  strange  approximation,  many  a  just 
note,  thrown  out  in  talk  and  now  forgotten.  I  pass 
over  dozens  of  his  interests,  and  dwell  on  this  trifling 
matter  of  the  phonograph,  because  it  seems  to  me  that 
it  depicts  the  man.  So,  for  Fleeming,  one  thing  joined 
into  another,  the  greater  with  the  less.  He  cared  not 
where  it  was  he  scratched  the  surface  of  the  ultimate 
mystery  —  in  the  child's  toy,  in  the  great  tragedy,  in 
the  laws  of  the  tempest,  or  in  the  properties  of  energy 
or  mass  —  certain  that  whatever  he  touched,  it  was  a 
part  of  life  —  and  however  he  touched  it,  there  would 
flow  for  his  happy  constitution  interest  and  delight. 
"  All  fables  have  their  morals,"  says  Thoreau,  "  but  the 
innocent  enjoy  the  story."  There  is  a  truth  repre- 
sented for  the  imagination  in  these  lines  of  a  noble 
poem,  where  we  are  told  that,  in  our  highest  hours  of 
visionary  clearness,  we  can  but 

see  the  children  sport  upon  the  shore 
And  hear  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore. 

To  this  clearness  Fleeming  had  attained;  and  although 
he  heard  the  voice  of  the  eternal  seas  and  weighed  its 
message,  he  was  yet  able,  until  the  end  of  his  life,  to 
sport  upon  these  shores  of  death  and  mystery  with  the 
gaiety  and  innocence  of  children. 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 
IV 

It  was  as  a  student  that  I  first  knew  Fleeming,  as 
one  of  that  modest  number  of  young  men  who  sat 
under  his  ministrations  in  a  soul-chilling  class-room 
at  the  top  of  the  University  buildings.  His  presence 
was  against  him  as  a  professor:  no  one,  least  of  all 
students,  would  have  been  moved  to  respect  him  at 
first  sight :  rather  short  in  stature,  markedly  plain,  boy- 
ishly young  in  manner,  cocking  his  head  like  a  terrier 
with  every  mark  of  the  most  engaging  vivacity  and 
readiness  to  be  pleased,  full  of  words,  full  of  paradox, 
a  stranger  could  scarcely  fail  to  look  at  him  twice,  a 
man  thrown  with  him  in  a  train  could  scarcely  fail  to 
be  engaged  by  him  in  talk,  but  a  student  would  never 
regard  him  as  academical.  Yet  he  had  that  fibre  in 
him  that  order  always  existed  in  his  class-room.  I  do 
not  remember  that  he  ever  addressed  me  in  language; 
at  the  least  sign  of  unrest,  his  eye  would  fall  on  me 
and  I  was  quelled.  Such  a  feat  is  comparatively  easy 
in  a  small  class;  but  I  have  misbehaved  in  smaller 
classes  and  under  eyes  more  Olympian  than  Fleeming 
Jenkin's.  He  was  simply  a  man  from  whose  reproof 
one  shrank;  in  manner  the  least  buckrammed  of  man- 
kind, he  had,  in  serious  moments,  an  extreme  dignity 
of  goodness.  So  it  was  that  he  obtained  a  power  over 
the  most  insubordinate  of  students,  but  a  power  of 
which  I  was  myself  unconscious.  I  was  inclined  to 
regard  any  professor  as  a  joke,  and  Fleeming  as  a  par- 
ticularly good  joke,  perhaps  the  broadest  in  the  vast 
pleasantry  of  my  curriculum.  I  was  not  able  to  follow 
his  lectures ;  I  somehow  dared  not  misconduct  myselC 

160 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

as  was  my  customary  solace;  and  I  refrained  from  at- 
tending. This  brought  me  at  the  end  of  the  session 
into  a  relation  with  my  contemned  professor  that  com- 
pletely opened  my  eyes.  During  the  year,  bad  student 
as  I  was,  he  had  shown  a  certain  leaning  to  my  so- 
ciety; I  had  been  to  his  house,  he  had  asked  me  to 
take  a  humble  part  in  his  theatricals ;  I  was  a  master  in 
the  art  of  extracting  a  certificate  even  at  the  cannon's 
mouth ;  and  I  was  under  no  apprehension.  But  when 
I  approached  Fleeming,  I  found  myself  in  another 
world;  he  would  have  naught  of  me.  "It  is  quite 
useless  for  you  to  come  to  me,  Mr.  Stevenson.  There 
may  be  doubtful  cases,  there  in  no  doubt  about  yours. 
You  have  simply  not  attended  my  class."  The  docu- 
ment was  necessary  to  me  for  family  considerations; 
and  presently  I  stooped  to  such  pleadings  and  rose  to 
such  adjurations,  as  made  my  ears  burn  to  remember. 
He  was  quite  unmoved;  he  had  no  pity  for  me.  "You 
are  no  fool,"  said  he,  "and  you  chose  your  course."  I 
showed  him  that  he  had  misconceived  his  duty,  that 
certificates  were  things  of  form,  attendance  a  matter  of 
taste.  Two  things,  he  replied,  had  been  required  for 
graduation,  a  certain  competency  proved  in  the  final 
trials  and  a  certain  period  of  genuine  training  proved 
by  certificate;  if  he  did  as  I  desired,  not  less  than  if  he 
gave  me  hints  for  an  examination,  he  was  aiding  me  to 
steal  a  degree.  "You  see,  Mr.  Stevenson,  these  are 
the  laws  and  I  am  here  to  apply  them,"  said  he.  I 
could  not  say  but  that  this  view  was  tenable,  though 
it  was  new  to  me;  I  changed  my  attack:  it  was  only 
for  my  father's  eye  that  I  required  his  signature,  it  need 
never  go  to  the  Senatus,  I  had  already  certificates 

161 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

enough  to  justify  my  year's  attendance.  "  Bring  them 
to  me;  I  cannot  take  your  word  for  that,"  said  he. 
"Then  I  will  consider."  The  next  day  I  came  charged 
with  my  certificates,  a  humble  assortment.  And  when 
he  had  satisfied  himself,  "Remember,"  said  he,  "that 
I  can  promise  nothing,  but  I  will  try  to  find  a  form  of 
words."  He  did  find  one,  and  I  am  still  ashamed  when 
I  think  of  his  shame  in  giving  me  that  paper.  He  made 
no  reproach  in  speech,  but  his  manner  was  the  more 
eloquent;  it  told  me  plainly  what  a  dirty  business  we 
were  on ;  and  I  went  from  his  presence,  with  my  certi- 
ficate indeed  in  my  possession,  but  with  no  answer- 
able sense  of  triumph.  That  was  the  bitter  beginning 
of  my  love  for  Fleeming;  I  never  thought  lightly  of  him 
afterwards. 

Once,  and  once  only,  after  our  friendship  was  truly 
founded,  did  we  come  to  a  considerable  difference.  It 
was,  by  the  rules  of  poor  humanity,  my  fault  and  his. 
I  had  been  led  to  dabble  in  society  journalism ;  and  this 
coming  to  his  ears,  he  felt  it  like  a  disgrace  upon  him- 
self. So  far  he  was  exactly  in  the  right ;  but  he  was 
scarce  happily  inspired  when  he  broached  the  subject 
at  his  own  table  and  before  guests  who  were  strangers 
to  me.  It  was  the  sort  of  error  he  was  always  ready 
to  repent,  but  always  certain  to  repeat ;  and  on  this  oc- 
casion he  spoke  so  freely  that  I  soon  made  an  excuse 
and  left  the  house  with  the  firm  purpose  of  returning 
no  more.  About  a  month  later,  I  met  him  at  dinner  at 
a  common  friend's.  "Now,"  said  he,  on  the  stairs, 
"I  engage  you  —  like  a  lady  to  dance  —  for  the  end  of 
the  evening.  You  have  no  right  to  quarrel  with  me  and 
not  give  me  a  chance."  I  have  often  said  and  thought 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

that  Fleeming  had  no  tact;  he  belied  the  opinion  then.  I 
remember  perfectly  how,  so  soon  as  we  could  get  to- 
gether, he  began  his  attack:  "You  may  have  grounds 
of  quarrel  with  me;  you  have  none  against  Mrs.  Jenkin; 
and  before  I  say  another  word,  I  want  you  to  promise 
you  will  come  to  her  house  as  usual."  An  interview 
thus  begun  could  have  but  one  ending:  if  the  quarrel 
were  the  fault  of  both,  the  merit  of  the  reconciliation 
was  entirely  Fleeming's. 

When  our  intimacy  first  began,  coldly  enough,  acci- 
dentally enough  on  his  part,  he  had  still  something  of 
the  Puritan,  something  of  the  inhuman  narrowness  of 
the  good  youth.  It  fell  from  him  slowly,  year  by  year, 
as  he  continued  to  ripen,  and  grow  milder,  and  un- 
derstand more  generously  the  mingled  characters  of 
men.  In  the  early  days  he  once  read  me  a  bitter  lec- 
ture; and  I  remember  leaving  his  house  in  a  fine  spring 
afternoon,  with  the  physical  darkness  of  despair  upon 
my  eyesight.  Long  after  he  made  me  a  formal  retrac- 
tion of  the  sermon  and  a  formal  apology  for  the  pain 
he  had  inflicted;  adding  drolly,  but  truly,  "You  see, 
at  that  time  I  was  so  much  younger  than  you! "  And 
yet  even  in  those  days  there  was  much  to  learn  from 
him ;  and  above  all  his  fine  spirit  of  piety,  bravely  and 
trustfully  accepting  life,  and  his  singular  delight  in  the 
heroic. 

His  piety  was,  indeed,  a  thing  of  chief  importance. 
His  views  (as  they  are  called)  upon  religious  matters 
varied  much:  and  he  could  never  be  induced  to  think 
them  more  or  less  than  views.  "All  dogma  is  to  me 
mere  form,"  he  wrote;  "  dogmas  are  mere  blind  strug- 
gles to  express  the  inexpressible.  I  cannot  conceive 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEM1NG  JENKIN 

that  any  single  proposition  whatever  in  religion  is  true 
in  the  scientific  sense:  and  yet  all  the  while  I  think  the 
religious  view  of  the  world  is  the  most  true  view.  Try 
to  separate  from  the  mass  of  their  statements  that  which 
is  common  to  Socrates,  Isaiah,  David,  St.  Bernard,  the 
Jansenists,  Luther,  Mahomet,  Bunyan — yes,  and  George 
Eliot:  of  course  you  do  not  believe  that  this  something 
could  be  written  down  in  a  set  of  propositions  like  Eu- 
clid, neither  will  you  deny  that  there  is  something  com- 
mon and  this  something  very  valuable.  ...  I  shall  be 
sorry  if  the  boys  ever  give  a  moment's  thought  to  the 
question  of  what  community  they  belong  to  —  I  hope 
they  will  belong  to  the  great  community."  I  should  ob- 
serve that  as  time  went  on  his  conformity  to  the  church 
in  which  he  was  born  grew  more  complete,  and  his 
views  drew  nearer  the  conventional.  ' '  The  longer  I  live, 
my  dear  Louis,"  he  wrote  but  a  few  months  before  his 
death,  "the  more  convinced  I  become  of  a  direct  care 
by  God  —  which  is  reasonably  impossible  —  but  there 
it  is."  And  in  his  last  year  he  took  the  communion. 

But  at  the  time  when  I  fell  under  his  influence,  he 
stood  more  aloof;  and  this  made  him  the  more  impres- 
sive to  a  youthful  atheist.  He  had  a  keen  sense  of  lan- 
guage and  its  imperial  influence  on  men;  language 
contained  all  the  great  and  sound  metaphysics,  he  was 
wont  to  say;  and  a  word  once  made  and  generally  un- 
derstood, he  thought  a  real  victory  of  man  and  reason. 
But  he  never  dreamed  it  could  be  accurate,  knowing 
that  words  stand  symbol  for  the  indefinable.  I  came 
to  him  once  with  a  problem  which  had  puzzled  me  out 
of  measure:  what  is  a  cause  ?  why  out  of  so  many  in- 
numerable millions  of  conditions,  all  necessary,  should 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

one  be  singled  out  and  ticketed  "the  cause  "  ?  "You 
do  not  understand,"  said  he.  "A  cause  is  the  answer 
to  a  question :  it  designates  that  condition  which  I  hap- 
pen to  know  and  you  happen  not  to  know."  It  was 
thus,  with  partial  exception  of  the  mathematical,  that 
he  thought  of  all  means  of  reasoning:  they  were  in 
his  eyes  but  means  of  communication,  so  to  be  under- 
stood, so  to  be  judged,  and  only  so  far  to  be  credited. 
The  mathematical  he  made,  I  say,  exception  of:  num- 
ber and  measure  he  believed  in  to  the  extent  of  their 
significance,  but  that  significance,  he  was  never  weary 
of  reminding  you,  was  slender  to  the  verge  of  nonentity. 
Science  was  true,  because  it  told  us  almost  nothing. 
With  a  few  abstractions  it  could  deal,  and  deal  cor- 
rectly ;  conveying  honestly  faint  truths.  Apply  its  means 
to  any  concrete  fact  of  life,  and  this  high  dialect  of  the 
wise  became  a  childish  jargon. 

Thus  the  atheistic  youth  was  met  at  every  turn  by  a 
scepticism  more  complete  than  his  own,  so  that  the  very 
weapons  of  the  fight  were  changed  in  his  grasp  to 
swords  of  paper.  Certainly  the  church  is  not  right,  he 
would  argue,  but  certainly  not  the  anti-church  either. 
Men  are  not  such  fools  as  to  be  wholly  in  the  wrong, 
nor  yet  are  they  so  placed  as  to  be  ever  wholly  in  the 
right.  Somewhere,  in  mid  air  between  the  disputants, 
like  hovering  Victory  in  some  design  of  a  Greek  battle, 
the  truth  hangs  undiscerned.  And  in  the  meanwhile 
what  matter  these  uncertainties  ?  Right  is  very  obvi- 
ous; a  great  consent  of  the  best  of  mankind,  a  loud 
voice  within  us  (whether  of  God,  or  whether  by  in- 
heritance, and  in  that  case  still  from  God),  guide  and 
command  us  in  the  path  of  duty.  He  saw  life  very 

165 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

simple;  he  did  not  love  refinements;  he  was  a  friend  to 
much  conformity  in  unessentials.  For  (he  would  argue) 
it  is  in  this  life  as  it  stands  about  us,  that  we  are  given 
our  problem ;  the  manners  of  the  day  are  the  colours  of 
our  palette,  they  condition,  they  constrain  us;  and  a 
man  must  be  very  sure  he  is  in  the  right,  must  (in  a 
favourite  phrase  of  his)  be  "  either  very  wise  or  very 
vain,"  to  break  with  any  general  consent  in  ethics.  I 
remember  taking  his  advice  upon  some  point  of  conduct. 
"  Now,"  he  said,  "  how  do  you  suppose  Christ  would 
have  advised  you  ?"  and  when  I  had  answered  that  he 
would  not  have  counselled  me  anything  unkind  or 
cowardly,  "No,"  he  said,  with  one  of  his  shrewd 
strokes  at  the  weakness  of  his  hearer,  "nor  anything 
amusing."  Later  in  life,  he  made  less  certain  in  the  field 
of  ethics.  "The  old  story  of  the  knowledge  of  good 
and  evil  is  a  very  true  one,"  I  find  him  writing;  only  (he 
goes  on)  "the  effect  of  the  original  dose  is  much  worn 
out,  leaving  Adam's  descendants  with  the  knowledge 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  —  but  uncertain  where."  His 
growing  sense  of  this  ambiguity  made  him  less  swift  to 
condemn,  but  no  less  stimulating  in  counsel.  "You 
grant  yourself  certain  freedoms.  Very  well,"  he  would 
say,  "  I  want  to  see  you  pay  for  them  some  other  way. 
You  positively  cannot  do  this:  then  there  positively 
must  be  something  else  that  you  can  do,  and  I  want  to 
see  you  find  that  out  and  do  it."  Fleeming  would 
never  suffer  you  to  think  that  you  were  living,  if  there 
were  not,  somewhere  in  your  life,  some  touch  of  heroism, 
to  do  or  to  endure. 

This  was  his  rarest  quality.     Far  on  in  middle  age, 
when  men  begin  to  lie  down  with  the  bestial  goddesses, 

166 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Comfort  and  Respectability,  the  strings  of  his  nature 
still  sounded  as  high  a  note  as  a  young  man's.  He 
loved  the  harsh  voice  of  duty  like  a  call  to  battle.  He 
loved  courage,  enterprise,  brave  natures,  a  brave  word, 
an  ugly  virtue ;  everything  that  lifts  us  above  the  table 
where  we  eat  or  the  bed  we  sleep  upon.  This  with  no 
touch  of  the  motive-monger  or  the  ascetic.  He  loved 
his  virtues  to  be  practical,  his  heroes  to  be  great  eaters 
of  beef;  he  loved  the  jovial  Heracles,  loved  the  astute 
Odysseus;  not  the  Robespierres  and  Wesleys.  A 
fine  buoyant  sense  of  life  and  of  man's  unequal  char- 
acter ran  through  all  his  thoughts.  He  could  not  tol- 
erate the  spirit  of  the  pickthank;  being  what  we  are,  he 
wished  us  to  see  others  with  a  generous  eye  of  admira- 
tion, not  with  the  smallness  of  the  seeker  after  faults. 
If  there  shone  anywhere  a  virtue,  no  matter  how  in- 
congruously set,  it  was  upon  the  virtue  we  must  fix  our 
eyes.  I  remember  having  found  much  entertainment 
in  Voltaire's  Saftl,  and  telling  him  what  seemed  to  me 
the  drollest  touches.  He  heard  me  out,  as  usual  when 
displeased,  and  then  opened  fire  on  me  with  red-hot 
shot.  To  belittle  a  noble  story  was  easy ;  it  was  not 
literature,  it  was  not  art,  it  was  not  morality;  there  was 
no  sustenance  in  such  a  form  of  jesting,  there  was  (in 
his  favourite  phrase)  "no  nitrogenous  food"  in  such 
literature.  And  then  he  proceeded  to  show  what  a  fine 
fellow  David  was;  and  what  a  hard  knot  he  was  in 
about  Bathsheba,  so  that  (the  initial  wrong  committed) 
honour  might  well  hesitate  in  the  choice  of  conduct; 
and  what  owls  those  people  were  who  marvelled  be- 
cause an  Eastern  tyrant  had  killed  Uriah,  instead  of 
marvelling  that  he  had  not  killed  the  prophet  also. 

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MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

"  Now  if  Voltaire  had  helped  me  to  feel  that,"  said  he, 
"  I  could  have  seen  some  fun  in  it."  He  loved  the  com- 
edy which  shows  a  hero  human,  and  yet  leaves  him  a 
hero,  and  the  laughter  which  does  not  lessen  love. 

It  was  this  taste  for  what  is  fine  in  human-kind,  that 
ruled  his  choice  in  books.  These  should  all  strike  a 
high  note,  whether  brave  or  tender,  and  smack  of  the 
open  air.  The  noble  and  simple  presentation  of  things 
noble  and  simple,  that  was  the  "nitrogenous  food"  of 
which  he  spoke  so  much,  which  he  sought  so  eagerly, 
enjoyed  so  royally.  He  wrote  to  an  author,  the  first 
part  of  whose  story  he  had  seen  with  sympathy,  hoping 
that  it  might  continue  in  the  same  vein.  ' '  That  this  may 
be  so,"  he  wrote,  "I  long  with  the  longing  of  David 
for  the  water  of  Bethlehem.  But  no  man  need  die  for 
the  water  a  poet  can  give,  and  all  can  drink  it  to  the 
end  of  time,  and  their  thirst  be  quenched  and  the  pool 
never  dry  —  and  the  thirst  and  the  water  are  both 
blessed."  It  was  in  the  Greeks  particularly  that  he 
found  this  blessed  water;  he  loved  "a  fresh  air"  which 
he  found  "about  the  Greek  things  even  in  transla- 
tions"; he  loved  their  freedom  from  the  mawkish  and 
the  rancid.  The  tale  of  David  in  the  Bible,  the  Odyssey, 
Sophocles,  ./Eschylus,  Shakespeare,  Scott;  old  Dumas 
in  his  chivalrous  note;  Dickens  rather  than  Thackeray, 
and  the  Tale  of  Two  Cities  out  of  Dickens :  such  were 
some  of  his  preferences.  To  Ariosto  and  Boccaccio  he 
was  always  faithful;  Burnt  Njal  was  a  late  favourite; 
and  he  found  at  least  a  passing  entertainment  in  the 
Arcadia  and  the  Grand  Cyrus.  George  Eliot  he  out- 
grew, finding  her  latterly  only  sawdust  in  the  mouth ; 
but  her  influence,  while  it  lasted,  was  great,  and  must 

1 68 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENK1N 

have  gone  some  way  to  form  his  mind.  He  was  easily 
set  on  edge,  however,  by  didactic  writing;  and  held 
that  books  should  teach  no  other  lesson  but  what  "  real 
life  would  teach,  were  it  as  vividly  presented."  Again, 
it  was  the  thing  made  that  took  him,  the  drama  in  the 
book ;  to  the  book  itself,  to  any  merit  of  the  making,  he 
was  long  strangely  blind.  He  would  prefer  the  Aga- 
memnon in  the  prose  of  Mr.  Buckley,  ay,  to  Keats.  But 
he  was  his  mother's  son,  learning  to  the  last.  He  told 
me  one  day  that  literature  was  not  a  trade;  that  it  was 
no  craft;  that  the  professed  author  was  merely  an  ama- 
teur with  a  door-plate.  "Very  well,"  said  I,  "the  first 
time  you  get  a  proof,  I  will  demonstrate  that  it  is  as 
much  a  trade  as  bricklaying,  and  that  you  do  not  know 
it."  By  the  very  next  post,  a  proof  came.  I  opened  it 
with  fear;  for  he  was  indeed,  as  the  reader  will  see  by 
these  volumes,  a  formidable  amateur;  always  wrote 
brightly,  because  he  always  thought  trenchantly;  and 
sometimes  wrote  brilliantly,  as  the  worst  of  whistlers 
may  sometimes  stumble  on  a  perfect  intonation.  But 
it  was  all  for  the  best  in  the  interests  of  his  education; 
and  I  was  able,  over  that  proof,  to  give  him  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  such  as  Fleeming  loved  both  to  give  and  to 
receive.  His  subsequent  training  passed  out  of  my 
hands  into  those  of  our  common  friend,  W.  E.  Henley. 
"Henley  and  I,"  he  wrote,  "have  fairly  good  times 
wigging  one  another  for  not  doing  better.  I  wig  him 
because  he  won't  try  to  write  a  real  play,  and  he  wigs 
me  because  I  can't  try  to  write  English."  When  I  next 
saw  him,  he  was  full  of  his  new  acquisitions.  "And 
yet  I  have  lost  something  too,"  he  said  regretfully. 
"  Up  to  now  Scott  seemed  to  me  quite  perfect,  he  was 

169 


•MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

all  I  wanted.  Since  I  have  been  learning  this  confounded 
thing,  I  took  up  one  of  the  novels,  and  a  great  deal  of 
it  is  both  careless  and  clumsy." 


HE  spoke  four  languages  with  freedom,  not  even 
English  with  any  marked  propriety.  What  he  uttered 
was  not  so  much  well  said,  as  excellently  acted :  so  we 
may  hear  every  day  the  inexpressive  language  of  a 
poorly-written  drama  assume  character  and  colour  in 
the  hands  of  a  good  player.  No  man  had  more  of  the 
vis  comica  in  private  life ;  he  played  no  character  on  the 
stage,  as  he  could  play  himself  among  his  friends.  It 
was  one  of  his  special  charms;  now  when  the  voice  is 
silent  and  the  face  still,  it  makes  it  impossible  to  do 
justice  to  his  power  in  conversation.  He  was  a  delight- 
ful companion  to  such  as  can  bear  bracing  weather;  not 
to  the  very  vain ;  not  to  the  owlishly  wise,  who  cannot 
have  their  dogmas  canvassed;  not  to  the  painfully  re- 
fined, whose  sentiments  become  articles  of  faith.  The 
spirit  in  which  he  could  write  that  he  was  "much 
revived  by  having  an  opportunity  of  abusing  Whistler 
to  a  knot  of  his  special  admirers,"  is  a  spirit  apt  to  be 
misconstrued.  He  was  not  a  dogmatist,  even  about 
Whistler.  "The  house  is  full  of  pretty  things,"  he 

wrote,  when  on  a  visit;  "  but  Mrs. 's  taste  in  pretty 

things  has  one  very  bad  fault:  it  is  not  my  taste."  And 
that  was  the  true  attitude  of  his  mind ;  but  these  eternal 
differences  it  was  his  joy  to  thresh  out  and  wrangle 
over  by  the  hour.  It  was  no  wonder  if  he  loved  the 
Greeks;  he  was  in  many  ways  a  Greek  himself;  he 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

should  have  been  a  sophist  and  met  Socrates ;  he  would 
have  loved  Socrates,  and  done  battle  with  him  staunchly 
and  manfully  owned  his  defeat;  and  the  dialogue,  ar- 
ranged by  Plato,  would  have  shown  even  in  Plato's 
gallery.  He  seemed  in  talk  aggressive,  petulant,  full  of 
a  singular  energy;  as  vain  you  would  have  said  as  a 
peacock,  until  you  trod  on  his  toes,  and  then  you  saw 
that  he  was  at  least  clear  of  all  the  sicklier  elements  of 
vanity.  Soundly  rang  his  laugh  at  any  jest  against 
himself.  He  wished  to  be  taken,  as  he  took  others,  for 
what  was  good  in  him  without  dissimulation  of  the 
evil,  for  what  was  wise  in  him  without  concealment  of 
the  childish.  He  hated  a  draped  virtue,  and  despised  a 
wit  on  its  own  defence.  And  he  drew  (if  I  may  so  ex- 
press myself)  a  human  and  humorous  portrait  of  him- 
self with  all  his  defects  and  qualities,  as  he  thus  enjoyed 
in  talk  the  robust  sports  of  the  intelligence;  giving  and 
taking  manfully,  always  without  pretence,  always  with 
paradox,  always  with  exuberant  pleasure;  speaking 
wisely  of  what  he  knew,  foolishly  of  what  he  knew 
not;  a  teacher,  a  learner,  but  still  combative;  picking 
holes  in  what  was  said  even  to  the  length  of  captious- 
ness,  yet  aware  of  all  that  was  said  rightly ;  jubilant  in 
victory,  delighted  by  defeat:  a  Greek  sophist,  a  British 
schoolboy. 

Among  the  legends  of  what  was  once  a  very  pleasant 
spot,  the  old  Savile  Club,  not  then  divorced  from  Savile 
Row,  there  are  many  memories  of  Fleeming.  He  was 
not  popular  at  first,  being  known  simply  as  "the  man 
who  dines  here  and  goes  up  to  Scotland  " ;  but  he  grew 
at  last,  I  think,  the  most  generally  liked  of  all  the  mem- 
bers. To  those  who  truly  knew  and  loved  him.  who 

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MEMOIR  OF  FLEEM1NG  JENKIN 

had  tasted  the  real  sweetness  of  his  nature,  Fleeming's 
porcupine  ways  had  always  been  a  matter  of  keen  re- 
gret. They  introduced  him  to  their  own  friends  with 
fear;  sometimes  recalled  the  step  with  mortification. 
It  was  not  possible  to  look  on  with  patience  while  a 
man  so  lovable  thwarted  love  at  every  step.  But  the 
course  of  time  and  the  ripening  of  his  nature  brought  a 
cure.  It  was  at  the  Savile  that  he  first  remarked  a 
change;  it  soon  spread  beyond  the  walls  of  the  club. 
Presently  I  find  him  writing:  "Will  you  kindly  explain 
what  has  happened  to  me  ?  All  my  life  I  have  talked  a 
good  deal,  with  the  almost  unfailing  result  of  making 
people  sick  of  the  sound  of  my  tongue.  It  appeared  to 
me  that  I  had  various  things  to  say,  and  I  had  no  malev- 
olent feelings,  but  nevertheless  the  result  was  that  ex- 
pressed above.  Well,  lately  some  change  has  hap- 
pened. If  I  talk  to  a  person  one  day,  they  must  have 
me  the  next.  Faces  light  up  when  they  see  me. — 
'Ah,  I  say,  come  here,' — 'come  and  dine  with  me.' 
It's  the  most  preposterous  thing  I  ever  experienced. 
It  is  curiously  pleasant.  You  have  enjoyed  it  all  your 
life,  and  therefore  cannot  conceive  how  bewildering  a 
burst  of  it  is  for  the  first  time  at  forty-nine."  And  this 
late  sunshine  of  popularity  still  further  softened  him. 
He  was  a  bit  of  a  porcupine  to  the  last,  still  shedding 
darts ;  or  rather  he  was  to  the  end  a  bit  of  a  schoolboy, 
and  must  still  throw  stones;  but  the  essential  toleration 
that  underlay  his  disputatiousness,  and  the  kindness 
that  made  of  him  a  tender  sicknurse  and  a  generous 
helper,  shone  more  conspicuously  through.  A  new 
pleasure  had  come  to  him ;  and  as  with  all  sound  na- 
tures, he  was  bettered  by  the  pleasure. 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

I  can  best  show  Fleeming  in  this  later  stage  by  quot- 
ing from  a  vivid  and  interesting  letter  of  M.  Emile 
Trelat's.  Here,  admirably  expressed,  is  how  he  ap- 
peared to  a  friend  of  another  nation,  whom  he  en- 
countered only  late  in  life.  M.  Trelat  will  pardon  me 
if  I  correct,  even  before  I  quote  him;  but  what  the 
Frenchman  supposed  to  flow  from  some  particular  bit- 
terness against  France,  was  only  Fleeming's  usual  ad- 
dress. Had  M.  Trelat  been  Italian,  Italy  would  have 
fared  as  ill;  and  yet  Italy  was  Fleeming's  favourite 
country. 

Vous  savez  comment  j'ai  connu  Fleeming  Jenkin  !  C'etait  en  Mai 
1878.  Nous  etions  tous  deux  membres  du  jury  de  1'Exposition  Uni- 
verselle.  On  n'avait  rien  fait  qui  vaille  a  la  premiere  seance  de  notre 
classe,  qui  avait  eu  lieu  le  matin.  Tout  le  monde  avait  parle  et  reparle 
pour  ne  rien  dire.  Cela  durait  depuis  huit  heures  ;  il  etait  midi.  Je  de- 
mandai  la  parole  pour  une  motion  d'ordre,  et  je  proposal  que  la  seance 
fut  levee  a  la  condition  que  chaque  membre  francais  emportdt  a  dejeu- 
ner un  jure  etranger.  Jenkin  applaudit.  "  Je  vous  emmene  dejeuner," 
lui  criai-je.  "Je  veux  bien."  .  .  .  Nous  parttmes;  en  chemin  nous 
vous  rencontrions  ;  il  vous  presente  et  nous  aliens  dejeuner  tous  trois 
aupres  du  Trocadero. 

Et,  depuis  ce  temps,  nous  avons  etc  de  vieux  amis.  Non  seulement 
nous  passions  nos  journees  au  jury,  ou  nous  etions  toujours  ensemble, 
cote-a-cote.  Mais  nos  habitudes  s'etaient  faites  telles  que,  non  contents 
de  dejeuner  en  face  1'un  de  1'autre,  je  le  ramenais  diner  presque  tous 
les  jours  chez  moi.  Cela  dura  une  quinzaine  :  puis  il  fut  rappele  en 
Angleterre.  Mais  il  revint,  et  nous  times  encore  une  bonne  etape  de 
vie  intellectuelle,  morale  et  philosophique.  Je  crois  qu'il  me  rendait 
deja  tout  ce  que  j'eprouvais  de  sympathie  et  d'estime,  et  que  je  ne  fus 
pas  pour  rien  dans  son  retour  a  Paris. 

Chose  singuliere  !  nous  nous  etions  attaches  1'un  a  1'autre  par  les  sous- 
entendus  bien  plus  que  par  la  matiere  de  nos  conversations.  A  vrai 
dire,  nous  etions  presque  toujours  en  discussion  ;  et  il  nous  arrivait  de 
nous  rire  au  nez  1'un  et  1'autre  pendant  des  heures,  tant  nous  nous  eton- 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

nions  retiproquemerrt  de  la  diversite  de  nos  points  de  vue.  Je  le  trou- 
vais  si  Anglais,  et  il  me  trouvait  si  Francais  !  11  etait  si  franchement 
reVolte"  de  certaines  choses  qu'il  voyait  chez  nous,  et  je  comprenais  si 
mal  certaines  choses  qui  se  passaient  chez  vous  !  Rien  de  plus  interes- 
sant  que  ces  contacts  qui  etaient  des  contrastes,  et  que  ces  rencontres 
d'idees  qui  etaient  des  choses ;  rien  de  si  attachant  que  les  echappees 
de  coeur  ou  d'esprit  auxquelles  ces  petits  conflits  donnaient  a  tout  mo- 
ment cours.  C'est  dans  ces  conditions  que,  pendant  son  sejour  a  Paris 
en  1878,  je  conduisis  un  peu  partout  mon  nouvel  ami.  Nous  allames 
chez  Madame  Edmond  Adam,  ou  il  vit  passer  beaucoup  d'hommes  po- 
litiques  avec  lesquels  il  causa.  Mais  c'est  chez  les  ministres  qu'il  fut 
interesse.  Le  moment  etait,  d'ailleurs,  curieux  en  France.  Je  me  rap- 
pelle  que,  lorsque  je  le  presentai  au  Ministre  du  Commerce,  il  fit  cette 
spirituelle  repartie  :  "  C'est  la  seconde  fois  que  je  viens  en  France  sous 
la  R6publique.  La  premiere  fois,  c'etait  en  1848,  elle  s'etait  coiffee  de 
travers  :  je  suisbien  heureux  de  saluer  aujourd'hui  votre  excellence,  quand 
elle  a  mis  son  chapeau  droit."  Une  fois  je  le  menai  voir  couronner  la 
Rosiere  de  Nanterre.  II  y  suivit  les  ceremonies  civiles  et  religieuses;  il 
y  assista  au  banquet  donne  par  le  Maire ;  il  y  vit  notre  De  Lesseps,  au- 
quel  il  porta  un  toast.  Le  soir,  nous  revinmes  tard  a  Paris;  il  faisait 
chaud;  nous  etions  un  peu  fatigues;  nous  entrames  dans  un  des  rares 
cafes  encore  ouverts.  II  devint  silencieux. —  "  N'etes-vous  pas  content 
de  votre  journee  ?  "  lui  dis-je. —  "  O,  si !  mais  je  reflechis,  et  je  me  dis  que 
vous  etes  un  peuple  gai  —  tous  ces  braves  gens  etaient  gais  aujourd'hui. 
C'est  une  vertu,  la  gaiete,  et  vous  1'avez  en  France,  cette  vertu  !  "  II  me 
disait  cela  melancoliquement;  et  c'etait  la  premiere  fois  que  je  lui  enten- 
dais  faire  une  louange  adressee  a  la  France.  .  .  .  Mais  il  ne  faut  pas 
que  vous  voyiez  la  une  plainte  de  ma  part.  Je  serais  un  ingrat  si  je  me 
plaignais;  car  il  me  disait  souvent :  "  Quel  bon  Francais  vous  faites  !  " 
Et  il  m'aimait  a  cause  de  cela,  quoiqu'il  semblat  n'aimer  pas  la  France. 
C'ftait  la  un  trait  de  son  originalite.  II  est  vrai  qu'il  s'en  tirait  en  disant 
que  je  ne  ressemblai  pas  a  mes  compatriotes,  ce  a  quoi  il  ne  connaissait 
rien  !  —  Tout  cela  etait  fort  curieux  ;  car,  moi-meme,  je  1'aimais  quoi- 
qu'il en  cut  a  mon  pays  ! 

En  1879  il  amena  son  fils  Austin  a  Paris.  J'attirai  celui-ci.  II  dejeu- 
nait  avec  mois  deux  fois  par  semaine.  Je  lui  montrai  ce  qu'etait  1'inti- 
mite  franfaise  en  le  tutoyant  patemellement.  Cela  reserra  beaucoup 
nos  liens  d'intimite  avec  Jenkin.  .  .  .  Jefis  inviter  mon  ami  au  con- 

'74 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

gres  de  V Association  J 'ran caise  pour  I'avancement  des  sciences,  qui  se 
tenait  a  Rheims  en  1880.  11  y  vint.  J'eus  le  plaisir  de  lui  donner  la 
parole  dans  la  section  du  genie  civil  et  militaire,  que  je  presidais.  II  y 
fit  une  tres  interessante  communication,  qui  me  montrait  une  fois  de 
plus  1'originalite  de  ses  vues  et  la  surete  de  sa  science.  C'est  a  Tissue 
de  ce  congres  que  je  passai  lui  faire  visite  a  Rochefort,  ou  je  le  trouvai 
installe  en  famille  et  ou  je  presentai  pour  la  premiere  fois  mes  hommages 
a  son  eminente  compagne.  Je  le  vis  la  sous  un  jour  nouveau  et  tou- 
chant  pour  moi.  Madame  Jenkin,  qu'il  entourait  si  galamment,  et  ses 
deux  jeunes  ills  donnaient  encore  plus  de  relief  a  sa  personne.  J'em- 
portai  des  quelques  heures  que  je  passai  a  cote  de  lui  dans  ce  charmant 
paysage  un  souvenir  emu. 

j'etais  alle  en  Angleterre  en  1882  sans  pouvoir  gagner  Edimbourg. 
J'y  retournai  en  1883  avec  la  commission  d'assainissement  de  la  ville  de 
Paris,  dont  je  faisais  partie.  Jenkin  me  rejoignit.  Je  le  fis  entendre  par 
mes  collegues;  car  il  etait  fondateur  d'une  societe  de  salubrite.  II  cut 
un  grand  succes  parmi  nous.  Mais  ce  voyage  me  restera  toujours  en 
memoire  parce  que  c'est  la  que  se  fixa  defmitivement  notre  forte  amitie. 
II  m'invita  un  jour  a  diner  a  son  club  et  au  moment  de  me  faire  asseoir 
a  cote  de  lui,  il  me  retint  et  me  dit :  "Je  voudrais  vous  demander  de 
m'accorder  quelque  chose.  C'est  mon  sentiment  que  nos  relations  ne 
peuvent  pas  se  bien  continuer  si  vous  ne  me  donnez  pas  la  permission 
de  vous  tutoyer.  Voulez-vous  que  nous  nous  tutoyions  ?  "  Je  lui  pris 
les  mains  et  je  lui  dis  qu'une  pareille  proposition  venant  d'un  Anglais, 
et  d'un  Anglais  de  sa  haute  distinction,  c'etait  une  victoire,  dont  je  se- 
rais fier  toute  ma  vie.  Et  nous  commencions  a  user  de  cette  nouvelle 
forme  dans  nos  rapports.  Vous  savez  avec  quelle  finesse  il  parlait  le 
francais  :  comme  il  en  connaissait  tous  les  tours,  comme  il  jouait  avec 
ses  difficultes,  et  meme  avec  ses  petites  gamineries.  Je  crois  qu'il  a  etc 
heureux  de  pratiquer  avec  moi  ce  tutoiement,  qui  ne  s'adapte  pas  a 
I'anglais,  et  qui  est  si  francais.  Je  ne  puis  vous  peindre  1'etendue  et  la 
variete  de  nos  conversations  de  la  soiree.  Mais  ce  que  je  puis  vous 
dire,  c'est  que,  sous  la  caresse  du  tu,  nos  idees  se  sont  elevees.  Nous 
avions  toujours  beaucoup  ri  ensemble;  mais  nous  n'avions  jamais laisse 
des  banalites  s'introduire  dans  nos  echanges  de  pensees.  Ce  soir-la, 
notre  horizon  intellectuel  s'est  elargi,  et  nous  y  avons  pousse  des  recon- 
naissances profondes  et  lointaines.  Apres  avoir  vivement  cause  a  table, 
nous  avons  longuement  cause  au  salon  ;  et  nous  nous  separions  le  soir 

'75 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

a  Trafalgar  Square,  apres  avoir  longe  les  trottoirs,  stationne  aux  coins  des 
rues  et  deux  fois  rebrousse  chemin  en  nous  reconduisant  1'un  1'autre.  II 
etait  pres  d'une  heure  du  matin  !  Mais  quelle  belle  passe  d'argumenta- 
tion,  quels  beaux  echanges  de  sentiments,  quelles  fortes  confidences 
patriotiques  nous  avions  foumies  !  J'ai  compris  ce  soir-la  que  Jenkin  ne 
detestait  pas  la  France,  et  je  lui  serrai  fort  les  mains  en  1'embrassant. 
Nous  nous  quittions  aussi  amis  qu'on  puisse  1'etre ;  et  notre  affection 
s'etait  par  lui  etendue  et  comprise  dans  un  tu  francais. 


176 


CHAPTER  VII 

1875  —  1885 

Mrs.  Jenkin's  Illness— Captain  Jenkin  — The  Golden  Wedding  — 
Death  of  Uncle  John  —  Death  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Austin  —  Illness  and 
Death  of  the  Captain  —  Death  of  Mrs.  Jenkin  —  Effect  on  Fleeming 
—  Telpherage  —  The  End. 

And  now  I  must  resume  my  narrative  for  that  mel- 
ancholy business  that  concludes  all  human  histories. 
In  January  of  the  year  1875,  while  Fleeming's  sky  was 
still  unclouded,  he  was  reading  Smiles.  "  I  read  my 
engineers'  lives  steadily,"  he  writes,  "but  find  biog- 
raphies depressing.  I  suspect  one  reason  to  be  that 
misfortunes  and  trials  can  be  graphically  described,  but 
happiness  and  the  causes  of  happiness  either  cannot  be 
or  are  not.  A  grand  new  branch  of  literature  opens  to 
my  view :  a  drama  in  which  people  begin  in  a  poor  way 
and  end,  after  getting  gradually  happier,  in  an  ecstasy 
of  enjoyment.  The  common  novel  is  not  the  thing  at 
all.  It  gives  struggle  followed  by  relief.  I  want  each 
act  to  close  on  a  new  and  triumphant  happiness,  which 
has  been  steadily  growing  all  the  while.  This  is  the 
real  antithesis  of  tragedy,  where  things  get  blacker  and 
blacker  and  end  in  hopeless  woe.  Smiles  has  not 
grasped  my  grand  idea,  and  only  shows  a  bitter  struggle 
followed  by  a  little  respite  before  death.  Some  feeble 
critic  might  say  my  new  idea  was  not  true  to  nature.  I'm 
sick  of  this  old-fashioned  notion  of  art.  Hold  a  mirror 

177 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

up,  indeed !  Let's  paint  a  picture  of  how  things  ought 
to  be  and  hold  that  up  to  nature,  and  perhaps  the  poor 
old  woman  may  repent  and  mend  her  ways."  The 
"grand  idea"  migU  be  possible  in  art;  not  even  the 
ingenuity  of  nature  could  so  round  in  the  actual  life  of 
any  man.  And  yet  it  might  almost  seem  to  fancy  that 
she  had  read  the  letter  and  taken  the  hint;  for  to  Fleem- 
ing  the  cruelties  of  fate  were  strangely  blended  with 
tenderness,  and  when  death  came,  it  came  harshly  to 
others,  to  him  not  unkindly. 

In  the  autumn  of  that  same  year  1875,  Fleeming's 
father  and  mother  were  walking  in  the  garden  of  their 
house  at  Merchiston,  when  the  latter  fell  to  the  ground. 
It  was  thought  at  the  time  to  be  a  stumble;  it  was  in 
all  likelihood  a  premonitory  stroke  of  palsy.  From  that 
day,  there  fell  upon  her  an  abiding  panic  fear;  that  glib, 
superficial  part  of  us  that  speaks  and  reasons  could  al- 
lege no  cause,  science  itself  could  find  no  mark  of 
danger,  a  son's  solicitude  was  laid  at  rest;  but  the  eyes 
of  the  body  saw  the  approach  of  a  blow,  and  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  body  trembled  at  its  coming.  It  came 
in  a  moment;  the  brilliant,  spirited  old  lady  leapt  from 
her  bed,  raving.  For  about  six  months,  this  stage  of 
her  disease  continued  with  many  painful  and  many 
pathetic  circumstances;  her  husband  who  tended  her, 
her  son  who  was  unwearied  in  his  visits,  looked  for 
no  change  in  her  condition  but  the  change  that  comes 
to  all.  "Poor  mother,"  I  find  Fleeming  writing,  "I 
cannot  get  the  tones  of  her  voice  out  of  my  head.  .  .  . 
I  may  have  to  bear  this  pain  for  a  long  time ;  and  so  I 
Jim  bearing  it  and  sparing  myself  whatever  pain  seems 
useless.  Mercifully  I  do  sleep,  I  am  so  weary  that  I 

178 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

must  sleep.  "  And  again  later:  "  I  could  do  very  well, 
if  my  mind  did  not  revert  to  my  poor  mother's  state 
whenever  I  stop  attending  to  matters  immediately  be- 
fore me."  And  the  next  day:  "I  can  never  feel  a 
moment's  pleasure  without  having  my  mother's  suffer- 
ing recalled  by  the  very  feeling  of  happiness.  A  pretty, 
young  face  recalls  hers  by  contrast  —  a  careworn  face 
recalls  it  by  association.  I  tell  you,  for  I  can  speak  to 
no  one  else ;  but  do  not  suppose  that  I  wilfully  let  my 
mind  dwell  on  sorrow." 

In  the  summer  of  the  next  year,  the  frenzy  left  her;  it 
left  her  stone  deaf  and  almost  entirely  aphasic,  but  with 
some  remains  of  her  old  sense  and  courage.  Stoutly  she 
set  to  work  with  dictionaries,  to  recover  her  lost  tongues ; 
and  had  already  made  notable  progress,  when  a  third 
stroke  scattered  her  acquisitions.  Thenceforth,  for 
nearly  ten  years,  stroke  followed  upon  stroke,  each  still 
further  jumbling  the  threads  of  her  intelligence,  but  by 
degrees  so  gradual  and  with  such  partiality  of  loss  and 
of  survival,  that  her  precise  state  was  always  and  to  the 
end  a  matter  of  dispute.  She  still  remembered  her 
friends :  she  still  loved  to  learn  news  of  them  upon  the 
slate;  she  still  read  and  marked  the  list  of  the  subscrip- 
tion library ;  she  still  took  an  interest  in  the  choice  of  a 
play  for  the  theatricals,  and  could  remember  and  find 
parallel  passages;  but  alongside  of  these  surviving 
powers,  were  lapses  as  remarkable,  she  misbehaved  like 
a  child,  and  a  servant  had  to  sit  with  her  at  table.  To 
see  her  so  sitting,  speaking  with  the  tones  of  a  deaf 
mute  not  always  to  the  purpose,  and  to  remember  what 
she  had  been,  was  a  moving  appeal  to  all  who  knew 
her.  Such  was  the  pathos  of  these  two  old  people  in 

•79 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

their  affliction,  that  even  the  reserve  of  cities  was 
melted  and  the  neighbours  vied  in  sympathy  and  kind- 
ness. Where  so  many  were  more  than  usually  helpful, 
it  is  hard  to  draw  distinctions;  but  I  am  directed  and  I 
delight  to  mention  in  particular  the  good  Dr.  Joseph 
Bell,  Mr.  Thomas,  and  Mr.  Archibald  Constable  with 
both  their  wives,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Belcombe  (of  whose 
good  heart  and  taste  I  do  not  hear  for  the  first  time  — 
the  news  had  come  to  me  by  way  of  the  Infirmary), 
and  their  next-door  neighbour,  unwearied  in  service, 
Miss  Hannah  Mayne.  Nor  should  I  omit  to  mention 
that  John  Ruffini  continued  to  write  to  Mrs.  Jenkin  till 
his  own  death,  and  the  clever  lady  known  to  the  world 
as  Vernon  Lee  until  the  end:  a  touching,  a  becoming 
attention  to  what  was  only  the  wreck  and  survival  of 
their  brilliant  friend. 

But  he  to  whom  this  affliction  brought  the  greatest 
change  was  the  Captain  himself.  What  was  bitter  in 
his  lot,  he  bore  with  unshaken  courage;  only  once,  in 
these  ten  years  of  trial,  has  Mrs.  Fleeming  Jenkin  seen 
him  weep;  for  the  rest  of  the  time  his  wife  —  his  com- 
manding officer,  now  become  his  trying  child  —  was 
served  not  with  patience  alone,  but  with  a  lovely  hap- 
piness of  temper.  He  had  belonged  all  his  life  to  the 
ancient,  formal,  speech-making,  compliment-present- 
ing school  of  courtesy ;  the  dictates  of  this  code  partook 
in  his  eyes  of  the  nature  of  a  duty;  and  he  must  now 
be  courteous  for  two.  Partly  from  a  happy  illusion, 
partly  in  a  tender  fraud,  he  kept  his  wife  before  the 
world  as  a  still  active  partner.  When  he  paid  a  call, 
he  would  have  her  write  "with  love"  upon  a  card;  or 
if  that  (at  the  moment)  was  too  much  he  would  go 

180 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEM1NG  JENK1N 

armed  with  a  bouquet  and  present  it  in  her  name.  He 
even  wrote  letters  for  her  to  copy  and  sign :  an  innocent 
substitution,  which  may  have  caused  surprise  to  Ruffini 
or  to  Vernon  Lee,  if  they  ever  received,  in  the  hand  of 
Mrs.  Jenkin,  the  very  obvious  reflections  of  her  hus- 
band. He  had  always  adored  this  wife  whom  he  now 
tended  and  sought  to  represent  in  correspondence:  it 
was  now,  if  not  before,  her  turn  to  repay  the  compli- 
ment; mind  enough  was  left  her  to  perceive  his  un- 
wearied kindness;  and  as  her  moral  qualities  seemed  to 
survive  quite  unimpaired,  a  childish  love  and  gratitude 
were  his  reward.  She  would  interrupt  a  conversation 
to  cross  the  room  and  kiss  him.  If  she  grew  excited 
(as  she  did  too  often)  it  was  his  habit  to  come  behind 
her  chair  and  pat  her  shoulder;  and  then  she  would 
turn  round,  and  clasp  his  hand  in  hers,  and  look  from 
him  to  her  visitor  with  a  face  of  pride  and  love;  and  it 
was  at  such  moments  only  that  the  light  of  humanity 
revived  in  her  eyes.  It  was  hard  for  any  stranger,  it 
was  impossible  for  any  that  loved  them,  to  behold  these 
mute  scenes,  to  recall  the  past,  and  not  to  weep.  But 
to  the  Captain,  I  think  it  was  all  happiness.  After  these 
so  long  years,  he  had  found  his  wife  again;  perhaps 
kinder  than  ever  before ;  perhaps  now  on  a  more  equal 
footing;  certainly,  to  his  eyes,  still  beautiful.  And  the 
call  made  on  his  intelligence  had  not  been  made  in  vain. 
The  merchants  of  Aux  Cayes,  who  had  seen  him  tried 
in  some  "counter-revolution"  in  1845,  wrote  to  the 
consul  of  his  "able  and  decided  measures,"  "his  cool, 
steady  judgment  and  discernment"  with  admiration; 
and  of  himself,  as  "a  credit  and  an  ornament  to  H.  M. 
Naval  Service."  It  is  plain  he  must  have  sunk  in  all  his 

181 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

powers,  during  the  years  when  he  was  only  a  figure, 
and  often  a  dumb  figure,  in  his  wife's  drawing-room; 
but  with  this  new  term  of  service,  he  brightened  visibly. 
He  showed  tact  and  even  invention  in  managing  his 
wife,  guiding  or  restraining  her  by  the  touch,  holding 
family  worship  so  arranged  that  she  could  follow  and 
take  part  in  it.  He  took  (to  the  world's  surprise)  to 
reading  —  voyages,  biographies,  Blair's  Sermons,  even 
(for  her  letter's  sake)  a  work  of  Vernon  Lee's,  which 
proved,  however,  more  than  he  was  quite  prepared  for. 
He  shone  more,  in  his  remarkable  way,  in  society;  and 
twice  he  had  a  little  holiday  to  Glenmorven,  where,  as 
may  be  fancied,  he  was  the  delight  of  the  Highlanders. 
One  of  his  last  pleasures  was  to  arrange  his  dining- 
room.  Many  and  many  a  room  (in  their  wandering 
and  thriftless  existence)  had  he  seen  his  wife  furnish 
"with  exquisite  taste "  and  perhaps  with  "considera- 
ble luxury  " :  now  it  was  his  turn  to  be  the  decorator. 
On  the  wall  he  had  an  engraving  of  Lord  Rodney's  ac- 
tion, showing  the  Protbte,  his  father's  ship,  if  the  reader 
recollects ;  on  either  side  of  this  on  brackets,  his  father's 
sword,  and  his  father's  telescope,  a  gift  from  Admiral 
Buckner,  who  had  used  it  himself  during  the  engage- 
ment; higher  yet,  the  head  of  his  grandson's  first  stag, 
portraits  of  his  son  and  his  son's  wife,  and  a  couple  of 
old  Windsor  jugs  from  Mrs.  Buckner's.  But  his  simple 
trophy  was  not  yet  complete;  a  device  had  to  be  worked 
and  framed  and  hung  below  the  engraving;  and  for 
this  he  applied  to  his  daughter-in-law:  "I  want  you 
to  work  me  something,  Annie.  An  anchor  at  each  side 
—  an  anchor  —  stands  for  an  old  sailor,  you  know  — 
stands  for  hope,  you  know  —  an  anchor  at  each  side, 

182 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEM1NG  JENKIN 

and  in  the  middle  THANKFUL."  It  is  not  easy,  on  any 
system  of  punctuation,  to  represent  the  Captain's 
speech.  Yet  I  hope  there  may  shine  out  of  these  facts, 
even  as  there  shone  through  his  own  troubled  utterance, 
some  of  the  charm  of  that  delightful  spirit. 

In  1 88 1,  the  time  of  the  golden  wedding  came  round 
for  that  sad  and  pretty  household.  It  fell  on  a  Good 
Friday,  and  its  celebration  can  scarcely  be  recalled  with- 
out both  smiles  and  tears.  The  drawing-room  was 
filled  with  presents  and  beautiful  bouquets;  these,  to 
Fleeming  and  his  family,  the  golden  bride  and  bride- 
groom displayed  with  unspeakable  pride,  she  so  pain- 
fully excited  that  the  guests  feared  every  moment  to 
see  her  stricken  afresh,  he  guiding  and  moderating  her 
with  his  customary  tact  and  understanding,  and  do- 
ing the  honours  of  the  day  with  more  than  his  usual 
delight.  Thence  they  were  brought  to  the  dining- 
room,  where  the  Captain's  idea  of  a  feast  awaited 
them:  tea  and  champagne,  fruit  and  toast  and  childish 
little  luxuries,  set  forth  pell-mell  and  pressed  at  random 
on  the  guests.  And  here  he  must  make  a  speech  for 
himself  and  his  wife,  praising  their  destiny,  their  mar- 
riage, their  son,  their  daughter-in-law,  their  grand- 
children, their  manifold  causes  of  gratitude:  surely  the 
most  innocent  speech,  the  old,  sharp  contemner  of  his 
innocence  now  watching  him  with  eyes  of  admiration. 
Then  it  was  time  for  the  guests  to  depart;  and  they 
went  away,  bathed,  even  to  the  youngest  child,  in 
tears  of  inseparable  sorrow  and  gladness,  and  leaving 
the  golden  bride  and  bridegroom  to  their  own  society 
and  that  of  the  hired  nurse. 

It  was  a  great  thing  for  Fleeming  to  make,  even  thus 
183 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

late,  the  acquaintance  of  his  father;  but  the  harrowing 
pathos  of  such  scenes  consumed  him.  In  a  life  of  tense 
intellectual  effort,  a  certain  smoothness  of  emotional 
tenor  were  to  be  desired;  or  we  burn  the  candle  at 
both  ends.  Dr.  Bell  perceived  the  evil  that  was  being 
done;  he  pressed  Mrs.  Jenkin  to  restrain  her  husband 
from  too  frequent  visits;  but  here  was  one  of  those 
clear-cut,  indubitable  duties  for  which  Fleeming  lived, 
and  he  could  not  pardon  even  the  suggestion  of  neglect. 
And  now,  after  death  had  so  long  visibly  but  still  in- 
nocuously hovered  above  the  family,  it  began  at  last  to 
strike  and  its  blows  fell  thick  and  heavy.  The  first  to 
go  was  uncle  John  Jenkin,  taken  at  last  from  his  Mex- 
ican dwelling  and  the  lost  tribes  of  Israel;  and  nothing 
in  this  remarkable  old  gentleman's  life  became  him 
like  the  leaving  of  it.  His  sterling,  jovial  acquiescence 
in  man's  destiny  was  a  delight  to  Fleeming.  "My 
visit  to  Stowting  has  been  a  very  strange  but  not  at  all 
a  painful  one,"  he  wrote.  "In  case  you  ever  wish  to 
make  a  person  die  as  he  ought  to  die  in  a  novel,"  he 
said  to  me,  "I  must  tell  you  all  about  my  old  uncle." 
He  was  to  see  a  nearer  instance  before  long;  for  this 
family  of  Jenkin,  if  they  were  not  very  aptly  fitted  to 
live,  had  the  art  of  manly  dying.  Uncle  John  was  but 
an  outsider  after  all ;  he  had  dropped  out  of  hail  of  his 
nephew's  way  of  life  and  station  in  society,  and  was 
more  like  some  shrewd,  old,  humble  friend  who  should 
have  kept  a  lodge ;  yet  he  led  the  procession  of  becom- 
ing deaths,  and  began  in  the  mind  of  Fleeming  that 
train  of  tender  and  grateful  thought,  which  was  like  a 
preparation  for  his  own.  Already  I  find  him  writing 
in  the  plural  of  "these  impending  deaths";  already  I 

184 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

find  him  in  quest  of  consolation.  "There  is  little  pain 
in  store  for  these  wayfarers,"  he  wrote,  "and  we  have 
hope  —  more  than  hope,  trust" 

On  May  19,  1884,  Mr.  Austin  was  taken.  He  was 
seventy-eight  years  of  age,  suffered  sharply  with  all  his 
old  firmness,  and  died  happy  in  the  knowledge  that  he 
had  left  his  wife  well  cared  for.  This  had  always  been 
a  bosom  concern ;  for  the  Barrens  were  long-lived  and 
he  believed  that  she  would  long  survive  him.  But 
their  union  had  been  so  full  and  quiet  that  Mrs.  Austin 
languished  under  the  separation.  In  their  last  years, 
they  would  sit  all  evening  in  their  own  drawing-room 
hand  in  hand:  two  old  people  who,  for  all  their  funda- 
mental differences,  had  yet  grown  together  and  become 
all  the  world  in  each  other's  eyes  and  hearts;  and  it 
was  felt  to  be  a  kind  release,  when  eight  months  after, 
on  January  14,  1885,  Eliza  Barren  followed  Alfred  Aus- 
tin. "I  wish  I  could  save  you  from  all  pain,"  wrote 
Fleeming  six  days  later  to  his  sorrowing  wife,  "I  would 
if  I  could  —  but  my  way  is  not  God's  way;  and  of  this 
be  assured, — God's  way  is  best." 

In  the  end  of  the  same  month,  Captain  Jenkin  caught 
cold  and  was  confined  to  bed.  He  was  so  unchanged 
in  spirit  that  at  first  there  seemed  no  ground  of  fear; 
but  his  great  age  began  to  tell,  and  presently  it  was 
plain  he  had  a  summons.  The  charm  of  his  sailor's 
cheerfulness  and  ancient  courtesy,  as  he  lay  dying,  is 
not  to  be  described.  There  he  lay,  singing  his  old  sea 
songs;  watching  the  poultry  from  the  window  with  a 
child's  delight;  scribbling  on  the  slate  little  messages  to 
his  wife,  who  lay  bed-ridden  in  another  room;  glad 
to  have  Psalms  read  aloud  to  him,  if  they  were  of  a 

•85 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

pious  strain — checking,  with  an  "  I  don't  think  we  need 
read  that,  my  dear,"  any  that  were  gloomy  or  bloody. 
Fleeming's  wife  coming  to  the  house  and  asking  one  of 
the  nurses  for  news  of  Mrs.  Jenkin,  "  Madam,  I  do  not 
know,"  said  the  nurse;  "for  I  am  really  so  carried 
away  by  the  captain  that  I  can  think  of  nothing  else." 
One  of  the  last  messages  scribbled  to  his  wife  and  sent 
her  with  a  glass  of  the  champagne  that  had  been  or- 
dered for  himself,  ran,  in  his  most  finished  vein  of  child- 
ish madrigal:  "The  Captain  bows  to  you,  my  love, 
across  the  table."  When  the  end  was  near  and  it  was 
thought  best  that  Fleeming  should  no  longer  go  home 
but  sleep  at  Merchiston,  he  broke  his  news  to  the  Cap- 
tain with  some  trepidation,  knowing  that  it  carried  sen- 
tence of  death.  "  Charming,  charming  —  charming  ar- 
rangement," was  the  Captain's  only  commentary.  It 
was  the  proper  thing  for  a  dying  man,  of  Captain  Jen- 
kin's  school  of  manners,  to  make  some  expression  of 
his  spiritual  state;  nor  did  he  neglect  the  observance. 
With  his  usual  abruptness,  "Fleeming,"  said  he,  "I 
suppose  you  and  I  feel  about  all  this  as  two  Christian 
gentlemen  should."  A  last  pleasure  was  secured  for 
him.  He  had  been  waiting  with  painful  interest  for 
news  of  Gordon  and  Khartoum ;  and  by  great  good  for- 
tune, a  false  report  reached  him  that  the  city  was  re- 
lieved, and  the  men  of  Sussex  (his  old  neighbours)  had 
been  the  first  to  enter.  He  sat  up  in  bed  and  gave  three 
cheers  for  the  Sussex  regiment.  The  subsequent  cor- 
rection, if  it  came  in  time,  was  prudently  withheld  from 
the  dying  man.  An  hour  before  midnight  on  the  fifth 
of  February,  he  passed  away :  aged  eighty-four. 
Word  of  his  death  was  kept  from  Mrs.  Jenkin;  and 

iff 


MEMOIR  OF  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

she  survived  him  no  more  than  nine  and  forty  hours. 
On  the  day  before  her  death,  she  received  a  letter  from 
her  old  friend  Miss  Bell  of  Manchester,  knew  the  hand, 
kissed  the  envelope,  and  laid  it  on  her  heart;  so  that 
she  too  died  upon  a  pleasure.  Half  an  hour  after  mid- 
night, on  the  eighth  of  February,  she  fell  asleep:  it  is 
supposed  in  her  seventy-eighth  year. 

Thus,  in  the  space  of  less  than  ten  months,  the  four 
seniors  of  this  family  were  taken  away ;  but  taken  with 
such  features  of  opportunity  in  time  or  pleasant  courage 
in  the  sufferer,  that  grief  was  tempered  with  a  kind  of 
admiration.  The  effect  on  Fleeming  was  profound. 
His  pious  optimism  increased  and  became  touched  with 
something  mystic  and  filial.  "The  grave  is  not  good, 
the  approaches  to  it  are  terrible,"  he  had  written  at  the 
beginning  of  his  mother's  illness:  he  thought  so  no 
more,  when  he  had  laid  father  and  mother  side  by  side 
at  Stowting.  He  had  always  loved  life;  in  the  brief 
time  that  now  remained  to  him,  he  seemed  to  be  half 
in  love  with  death.  "Grief  is  no  duty,"  he  wrote  to 
Miss  Bell;  "it  was  all  too  beautiful  for  grief,"  he  said 
to  me ;  but  the  emotion,  call  it  by  what  name  we  please, 
shook  him  to  his  depths;  his  wife  thought  he  would 
have  broken  his  heart  when  he  must  demolish  the  Cap- 
tain's trophy  in  the  dining-room,  and  he  seemed  thence- 
forth scarcely  the  same  man. 

These  last  years  were  indeed  years  of  an  excessive 
demand  upon  his  vitality;  he  was  not  only  worn  out 
with  sorrow,  he  was  worn  out  by  hope.  The  singular 
invention  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  telpherage,  had 
of  late  consumed  his  time,  overtaxed  his  strength  and 
overheated  his  imagination.  The  words  in  which  he 

187 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

first  mentioned  his  discovery  to  me — "I  am  simply 
Alnaschar"  —  were  not  only  descriptive  of  his  state  of 
mind,  they  were  in  a  sense  prophetic;  since  whatever 
fortune  may  await  his  idea  in  the  future,  it  was  not  his 
to  see  it  bring  forth  fruit.  Alnaschar  he  was  indeed ;  be- 
holding about  him  a  world  all  changed,  a  world  filled 
with  telpherage  wires;  and  seeing  not  only  himself  and 
family  but  all  his  friends  enriched.  It  was  his  pleasure, 
when  the  company  was  floated,  to  endow  those  whom 
he  liked  with  stock;  one,  at  least,  never  knew  that  he 
was  a  possible  rich  man  until  the  grave  had  closed  over 
his  stealthy  benefactor.  And  however  Fleeming  chafed 
among  material  and  business  difficulties,  this  rainbow 
vision  never  faded ;  and  he,  like  his  father  and  his  mother, 
may  be  said  to  have  died  upon  a  pleasure.  But  the 
strain  told,  and  he  knew  that  it  was  telling.  "  I  am  be- 
coming a  fossil,"  he  had  written  five  years  before,  as  a 
kind  of  plea  for  a  holiday  visit  to  his  beloved  Italy. 
"  Take  care!  If  I  am  Mr.  Fossil,  you  will  be  Mrs.  Fossil, 
and  Jack  will  be  Jack  Fossil,  and  all  the  boys  will  be  little 
fossils,  and  then  we  shall  be  a  collection."  There  was 
no  fear  more  chimerical  for  Fleeming;  years  brought 
him  no  repose;  he  was  as  packed  with  energy,  as  fiery 
in  hope,  as  at  the  first;  weariness,  to  which  he  began 
to  be  no  stranger,  distressed,  it  did  not  quiet  him.  He 
feared  for  himself,  not  without  ground,  the  fate  which 
had  overtaken  his  mother;  others  shared  the  fear.  In 
the  changed  life  now  made  for  his  family,  the  elders 
dead,  the  sons  going  from  home  upon  their  education, 
even  their  tried  domestic  (Mrs.  Alice  Dunns)  leaving 
the  house  after  twenty-two  years  of  service,  it  was  not 
unnatural  that  he  should  return  to  dreams  of  Italy.  He 

188 


MEMOIR  OF   FLEEMING  JENKIN 

and  his  wife  were  to  go  (as  he  told  me)  on  "  a  real 
honeymoon  tour. "  He  had  not  been  alone  with  his  wife 
"  to  speak  of,"  he  added,  since  the  birth  of  his  children. 
But  now  he  was  to  enjoy  the  society  of  her  to  whom  he 
wrote,  in  these  last  days,  that  she  was  his  "  Heaven  on 
earth."  Now  he  was  to  revisit  Italy,  and  see  all  the 
pictures  and  the  buildings  and  the  scenes  that  he  ad- 
mired so  warmly,  and  lay  aside  for  a  time  the  irritations 
of  his  strenuous  activity.  Nor  was  this  all.  A  trifling 
operation  was  to  restore  his  former  lightness  of  foot;  and 
it  was  a  renovated  youth  that  was  to  set  forth  upon  this 
reenacted  honeymoon. 

The  operation  was  performed;  it  was  of  a  trifling 
character,  it  seemed  to  go  well,  no  fear  was  entertained ; 
and  his  wife  was  reading  aloud  to  him  as  he  lay  in  bed, 
when  she  perceived  him  to  wander  in  his  mind.  It  is 
doubtful  if  he  ever  recovered  a  sure  grasp  upon  the 
things  of  life;  and  he  was  still  unconscious  when  he 
passed  away,  June  the  twelfth,  1885,  in  the  fifty-third 
year  of  his  age.  He  passed ;  but  something  in  his  gal- 
lant vitality  had  impressed  itself  upon  his  friends,  and 
still  impresses.  Not  from  one  or  two  only,  but  from 
many,  I  hear  the  same  tale  of  how  the  imagination  re- 
fuses to  accept  our  loss  and  instinctively  looks  for  his 
reappearing,  and  how  memory  retains  his  voice  and 
image  like  things  of  yesterday.  Others,  the  well-be- 
loved too,  die  and  are  progressively  forgotten;  two 
years  have  passed  since  Fleeming  was  laid  to  rest  beside 
his  father,  his  mother,  and  his  Uncle  John;  and  the 
thought  and  the  look  of  our  friend  still  haunt  us. 


189 


RECORDS  OF  A  FAMILY  OF 
ENGINEERS 


NOTE  BY  SIDNEY  COLV1N 

The  following  fragment  of  family  biography  is  here  published  for  the 
first  time.  It  had  occupied  the  author  at  intervals  for  several  years 
of  his  life  in  Samoa,  and  especially  during  the  summer  of  1893  (see 
Vailima  Letters,  pp.  240,  241,  etc.).  It  is  printed  substantially  from 
a  manuscript  which  he  sent  home  in  the  autumn  of  that  year,  and 
which  was  at  his  request  set  up  in  type  for  further  revision  and  cor- 
rection. In  the  meantime  he  had  received  from  a  friend  and  name- 
sake who  is  a  specialist  in  genealogical  research,  Mr.  J.  H.  Steven- 
son, Advocate,  Edinburgh,  a  long  communication  which  caused 
him  to  modify  in  several  points  his  views  concerning  the  family 
name  and  history.  But,  so  far  as  is  known,  he  had  not  before  his 
death  revised  his  original  draft  so  as  to  embody  the  corrections  re- 
ceived from  this  and  other  quarters.  Accordingly  the  following 
chapters  must  be  regarded  as  representing  his  first  rather  than  his 
final  conceptions  of  the  subject.  With  the  help  of  Mr.  J.  H.  Ste- 
venson, and  from  information  furnished  by  some  members  of  the 
family,  the  Editor  has  been  enabled  to  make  a  certain  number  of 
corrections  on  matters  of  fact.  All  footnotes  not  followed  by  the 
author's  initials  are  editorial.1 

S.  C. 

1  The  above  appeared  in  the  Edinburgh  Edition,  from  which  the  following  pages  are 
copied  with  the  approval  of  Mr.  Stevenson's  executors. 


INTRODUCTION 

THE  SURNAME   OF  STEVENSON 

FROM  the  thirteenth  century  onwards,  the  name, 
under  the  various  disguises  of  Stevinstoun,  Steven- 
soun,  Stevensonne,  Stenesone,  and  Stewinsoune,  spread 
across  Scotland  from  the  mouth  of  the  Firth  of  Forth  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Firth  of  Clyde.  Four  times  at  least  it 
occurs  as  a  place-name.  There  is  a  parish  of  Steven- 
ston  in  Cunningham;  a  second  place  of  the  name  in  the 
Barony  of  Bothwell  in  Lanark;  a  third  on  Lyne,  above 
Drochil  Castle;  the  fourth  on  the  Tyne,  near  Traprain 
Law.  Stevenson  of  Stevenson  (co.  Lanark)  swore  fealty 
to  Edward  I.  in  1296,  and  the  last  of  that  family  died 
after  the  Restoration.  Stevensons  of  Hirdmanshiels,  in 
Midlothian,  rode  in  the  Bishops'  Raid  of  Aberlady, 
served  as  jurors,  stood  bail  for  neighbours  —  Hunter  of 
Polwood,  for  instance  —  and  became  extinct  about  the 
same  period,  or  possibly  earlier.  A  Stevenson  of  Luth- 
rie  and  another  of  Pitroddie  make  their  bows,  give  their 
names,  and  vanish.  And  by  the  year  1700  it  does  not 
appear  that  any  acre  of  Scots  land  was  vested  in  any 
Stevenson.1 

1  An  error :  Stevensons  owned  at  this  date  the  barony  of  Dolphing- 
ston  in  HaddingtonsMre,  Montgrennan  in  Ayrshire,  and  several  other 
lesser  places. 

195 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

Here  is,  so  far,  a  melancholy  picture  of  backward 
progress,  and  a  family  posting  towards  extinction.  But 
the  law  (however  administered,  and  I  am  bound  to 
aver  that,  in  Scotland,  "it  couldna  weel  be  waur")  acts 
as  a  kind  of  dredge,  and  with  dispassionate  impartiality 
brings  up  into  the  light  of  day,  and  shows  us  for  a  mo- 
ment, in  the  jury-box  or  on  the  gallows,  the  creeping 
things  of  the  past  By  these  broken  glimpses  we  are 
able  to  trace  the  existence  of  many  other  and  more  in- 
glorious Stevensons,  picking  a  private  way  through  the 
brawl  that  makes  Scots  history.  They  were  members 
of  Parliament  for  Peebles,  Stirling,  Pittenweem,  Kil- 
renny,  and  Inverurie.  We  find  them  burgesses  of 
Edinburgh;  indwellers  in  Biggar,  Perth,  and  Dalkeith. 
Thomas  was  the  forester  of  Newbattle  Park,  Gavin  was 
a  baker,  John  a  maltman,  Francis  a  chirurgeon,  and 
"  Schir  William"  a  priest  In  the  feuds  of  Humes  and 
Heatleys,  Cunninghams,  Montgomeries,  Mures,  Ogil- 
vies,  and  Turnbulls,  we  find  them  inconspicuously  in- 
volved, and  apparently  getting  rather  better  than  they 
gave.  Schir  William  (reverend  gentleman)  was  cruellie 
slaughtered  on  the  Links  of  Kincraig  in  1532;  James 
("in  the  mill-town  of  Roberton  "),  murdered  in  1590; 
Archibald  ("in  Gallowfarren  "),  killed  with  shots  of 
pistols  and  hagbuts  in  1608.  Three  violent  deaths  in 
about  seventy  years,  against  which  we  can  only  put  the 
case  of  Thomas,  servant  to  Hume  of  Cowden  Knowes, 
who  was  arraigned  with  his  two  young  masters  for  the 
death  of  the  Bastard  of  Mellerstanes  in  1569.  John  ("in 
Dalkeith")  stood  sentry  without  Holyrood  while  the 
banded  lords  were  despatching  Rizzio  within.  Will- 
iam, at  the  ringing  of  Perth  bell,  ran  before  Cowrie 

196 


THE  SURNAME  OF  STEVENSON 

House  "  with  ane  sword,  and,  altering  to  the  yearde, 
saw  George  Craiggingflt  with  ane  twa-handit  sword 
and  utheris  nychtbouris;  at  qirilk  time  James  Boig  cryit 
ower  ane  wynds,  'Awa  hame!  ye  wifl  aD  be  hang- 
it'" — a  piece  of  advice  which  William  took,  and  im- 
mediately "  depairtiL"  John  got  a  maid  with  child  to 
him  in  Biggar,  and  seemingly  deserted  her;  she  was 
hanged  on  the  Castle  Hill  for  infanticide,  June  1614;  and 
Martin,  elder  in  Dalkeith,  eternally  disgraced  the  name 
by  signing  witness  in  a  witch  trial,  1661.  These  are 
two  of  our  black  sheep.1  Under  the  Restoration,  one 
Stevenson  was  a  bailie  in  Edinburgh,  and  another  the 
lessee  of  the  CanonimUs.  There  were  at  the  same  pe- 
riod two  physicians  of  the  name  in  Edinburgh,  one  of 
whom,  Dr.  Archibald,  appears  to  have  been  a  famous 
man  in  his  day  and  generation.  The  Court  had  con- 
tinual need  of  him;  it  was  he  who  reported,  for  in- 
stance, on  the  state  of  Rumbold;  and  he  was  for  some 
time  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  pension  of  a  thousand 
pounds  Scots  (about  eighty  pounds  sterling)  at  a  time 
when  five  hundred  pounds  is  described  as  "an  opulent 
future."  I  do  not  know  if  I  should  be  glad  or  sorry 
that  he  failed  to  keep  favour;  but  on  6th  January  1682 
(rather  a  cheerless  New  Year's  present)  his  pension  was 
expunged.1  There  need  be  no  doubt,  at  least,  of  my 
exultation  at  the  fact  that  he  was  knighted  and  recorded 
arms.  Not  quite  so  genteel,  but  still  in  public  fife, 
Hugh  was  Under-Oerk  to  the  Privy  Council,  and  Kked 
being  so  extremely.  I  gather  this  from  his  conduct  in 

1  Pitaim's  CrumM/  Trials,  at  large.  —  [JL  L  S.] 
»  FoanbBnhaVs DKORMB,  ToL  L  pp.  5^  13*,  186,  204,368.— [R. 
LS.J 

197 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

September  1681,  when,  with  all  the  lords  and  their 
servants,  he  took  the  woful  and  soul-destroying  Test, 
swearing  it  "word  by  word  upon  his  knees."  And, 
behold!  it  was  in  vain,  for  Hugh  was  turned  out  of  his 
small  post  in  I684.1  Sir  Archibald  and  Hugh  were 
both  plainly  inclined  to  be  trimmers;  but  there  was 
one  witness  of  the  name  of  Stevenson  who  held 
high  the  banner  of  the  Covenant  —  John,  "Land- 
Labourer,3  in  the  Parish  of  Daily,  in  Carrick,"  that 
"eminently  pious  man."  He  seems  to  have  been 
a  poor  sickly  soul,  and  shows  himself  disabled  with 
scrofula,  and  prostrate  and  groaning  aloud  with  fever; 
but  the  enthusiasm  of  the  martyr  burned  high  within 
him. 

"I  was  made  to  take  joyfully  the  spoiling  of  my 
goods,  and  with  pleasure  for  His  name's  sake  wandered 
in  deserts  and  in  mountains,  in  dens  and  caves  of  the 
earth.  I  lay  four  months  in  the  coldest  season  of  the 
year  in  a  haystack  in  my  father's  garden,  and  a  whole 
February  in  the  open  fields  not  far  from  Camragen,  and 
this  I  did  without  the  least  prejudice  from  the  night 
air;  one  night,  when  lying  in  the  fields  near  to  the 
Carrick-Miln,  I  was  all  covered  with  snow  in  the  morn- 
ing. Many  nights  have  I  lain  with  pleasure  in  the 
churchyard  of  Old  Daily,  and  made  a  grave  my  pillow; 
frequently  have  I  resorted  to  the  old  walls  about  the 
glen,  near  to  Camragen,  and  there  sweetly  rested." 
The  visible  hand  of  God  protected  and  directed  him. 
Dragoons  were  turned  aside  from  the  bramble-bush 
where  he  lay  hidden.  Miracles  were  performed  for  his 

1  Ibid. ,  pp.  158,  299.  —  [R.  L.  S.]     a  Working  farmer  :  Fr.  labour eur. 

198 


THE  SURNAME  OF  STEVENSON 

behoof.  "I  got  a  horse  and  a  woman  to  carry  the 
child,  and  came  to  the  same  mountain,  where  I  wan- 
dered by  the  mist  before;  it  is  commonly  known  by  the 
name  of  Kells-rhins:  when  we  came  to  go  up  the  moun- 
tain, there  came  on  a  great  rain,  which  we  thought 
was  the  occasion  of  the  child's  weeping,  and  she  wept 
so  bitterly,  that  all  we  could  do  could  not  divert  her 
from  it,  so  that  she  was  ready  to  burst.  When  we  got 
to  the  top  of  the  mountain,  where  the  Lord  had  been 
formerly  kind  to  my  soul  in  prayer,  I  looked  round  me 
for  a  stone,  and  espying  one,  I  went  and  brought  it. 
When  the  woman  with  me  saw  me  set  down  the  stone, 
she  smiled,  and  asked  what  I  was  going  to  do  with  it. 
I  told  her  I  was  going  to  set  it  up  as  my  Ebenezer,  be- 
cause hitherto,  and  in  that  place,  the  Lord  had  formerly 
helped,  and  I  hoped  would  yet  help.  The  rain  still  con- 
tinuing, the  child  weeping  bitterly,  I  went  to  prayer, 
and  no  sooner  did  I  cry  to  God,  but  the  child  gave  over 
weeping,  and  when  we  got  up  from  prayer,  the  rain 
was  pouring  down  on  every  side,  but  in  the  way  where 
we  were  to  go  there  fell  not  one  drop;  the  place  not 
rained  on  was  as  big  as  an  ordinary  avenue."  And  so 
great  a  saint  was  the  natural  butt  of  Satan's  persecu- 
tions. "I  retired  to  the  fields  for  secret  prayer  about 
midnight.  When  I  went  to  pray  I  was  much  straitened, 
and  could  not  get  one  request,  but  'Lord  pity,'  '  Lord 
help '  ;  this  I  came  over  frequently;  at  length  the  terror 
of  Satan  fell  on  me  in  a  high  degree,  and  all  I  could  say 
even  then  was —  '  Lord  help.'  I  continued  in  the  duty 
for  some  time,  notwithstanding  of  this  terror.  At 
length  I  got  up  to  my  feet,  and  the  terror  still  increased  ; 

'99 


A   FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

then  the  enemy  took  me  by  the  arm-pits,  and  seemed 
to  lift  me  up  by  my  arms.  I  saw  a  loch  just  before  me, 
and  I  concluded  he  designed  to  throw  me  there  by 
force;  and  had  he  got  leave  to  do  so,  it  might  have 
brought  a  great  reproach  upon  religion."1  But  it  was 
otherwise  ordered,  and  the  cause  of  piety  escaped  that 
danger.8 

On  the  whole,  the  Stevensons  may  be  described  as 
decent,  reputable  folk,  following  honest  trades  —  mil- 
lers, maltsters,  and  doctors,  playing  the  character  parts 
in  the  Waverley  Novels  with  propriety,  if  without  dis- 
tinction; and  to  an  orphan  looking  about  him  in  the 
world  for  a  potential  ancestry,  offering  a  plain  and  quite 
unadorned  refuge,  equally  free  from  shame  and  glory. 
John,  the  land-labourer,  is  the  one  living  and  memora- 
ble figure,  and  he,  alas!  cannot  possibly  be  more  near 
than  a  collateral.  It  was  on  August  12,  1678,  that  he 
heard  Mr.  John  Welsh  on  the  Craigdowhill,  and  "took 
the  heavens,  earth,  and  sun  in  the  firmament  that  was 
shining  on  us,  as  also  the  ambassador  who  made  the 
offer,  and  the  clerk  who  raised  the  psalms,  to  witness 
that  I  did  give  myself  away  to  the  Lord  in  a  personal 
and  perpetual  covenant  never  to  be  forgotten"  ;  and 
already,  in  1675,  the  birth  of  my  direct  ascendant  was 
registered  in  Glasgow.  So  that  I  have  been  pursuing 
ancestors  too  far  down ;  and  John  the  land-labourer  is 

1This  John  Stevenson  was  not  the  only  "witness"  of  the  name; 
other  Stevensons  were  actually  killed  during  the  persecutions,  in  the 
Glen  of  Trool,  on  Pentland,  etc.;  and  it  is  very  possible  that  the 
author's  own  ancestor  was  one  of  the  mounted  party  embodied  by 
Muir  of  Caldwell,  only  a  day  too  late  for  Pentland. 

*  Wodrow  Society's  Select  Biographic*,  vol.  ii. —  [R.  L.  S.] 

200 


THE  SURNAME  OF  STEVENSON 

debarred  me,  and  I  must  relinquish  from  the  trophies 
of  my  house  his  rare  soul-strengthening  and  comforting 
cordial.  It  is  the  same  case  with  the  Edinburgh  bailie 
and  the  miller  of  the  Canonmills,  worthy  man!  and 
with  that  public  character,  Hugh  the  Under-Clerk,  and 
more  than  all,  with  Sir  Archibald,  the  physician,  who 
recorded  arms.  And  I  am  reduced  to  a  family  of  in- 
conspicuous maltsters  in  what  was  then  the  clean  and 
handsome  little  city  on  the  Clyde. 

The  name  has  a  certain  air  of  being  Norse.  But  the 
story  of  Scottish  nomenclature  is  confounded  by  a  con- 
tinual process  of  translation  and  half-translation  from  the 
Gaelic  which  in  olden  days  may  have  been  sometimes 
reversed.  Roy  becomes  Reid ;  Gow,  Smith.  A  great 
Highland  clan  uses  the  name  of  Robertson;  a  sept  in 
Appin  that  of  Livingstone;  Maclean  in  Glencoe  answers 
to  Johnstone  at  Lockerby.  And  we  find  such  hybrids 
as  Macalexander  for  Macallister.  There  is  but  one  rule 
to  be  deduced:  that  however  uncompromisingly  Saxon 
a  name  may  appear,  you  can  never  be  sure  it  does  not 
designate  a  Celt.  My  great-grandfather  wrote  the 
name  Stevenson  but  pronounced  it  Steenson,  after  the 
fashion  of  the  immortal  minstrel  in  Redgauntlet;  and 
this  elision  of  a  medial  consonant  appears  a  Gaelic  pro- 
cess ;  and,  curiously  enough,  I  have  come  across  no  less 
than  two  Gaelic  forms :  John  Macstophane  cordinerius 
in  Crossraguel,  1573,  and  William  M'Steen  in  Dunskeith 
(co.  Ross),  1605.  Stevenson,  Steenson,  Macstophane, 
M'Steen:  which  is  the  original  ?  which  the  translation  ? 
Or  were  these  separate  creations  of  the  patronymic, 
some  English,  some  Gaelic  ?  The  curiously  compact 
territory  in  which  we  find  them  seated  —  Ayr,  Lanark, 

201 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

Peebles,  Stirling,  Perth,  Fife,  and  the  Lothians,  would 
seem  to  forbid  the  supposition.1 

"  STEVENSON  —  or  according  to  tradition  of  one  of  the 
proscribed  of  the  clan  MacGregor,  who  was  born  among 
the  willows  or  in  a  hill-side  sheep-pen —  '  Son  of  my 
love,'  a  heraldic  bar  sinister,  but  history  reveals  a  reason 
for  the  birth  among  the  willows  far  other  than  the  sinis- 
ter aspect  of  the  name  " :  these  are  the  dark  words  of 
Mr.  Cosmo  Innes;  but  history  or  tradition,  being  interro- 
gated, tells  a  somewhat  tangled  tale.  The  heir  of  Mac- 
gregor  of  Glenorchy,  murdered  about  1353  by  the  Argyll 
Campbells,  appears  to  have  been  the  original  "  Son  of 
my  love";  and  his  more  loyal  clansmen  took  the  name 
to  fight  under.  It  may  be  supposed  the  story  of  their 
resistance  became  popular,  and  the  name  in  some  sort 
identified  with  the  idea  of  opposition  to  the  Campbells. 
Twice  afterwards,  on  some  renewed  aggression,  in  1 502 
and  1552,  we  find  the  Macgregors  again  banding  them- 
selves into  a  sept  of  "  Sons  of  my  love  " ;  and  when  the 
great  disaster  fell  on  them  in  1603,  the  whole  original  leg- 
end reappears,  and  we  have  the  heir  of  Alaster  of  Glen- 
strae  born  "among  the  willows"  of  a  fugitive  mother, 
and  the  more  loyal  clansmen  again  rallying  under  the 
name  of  Stevenson.  A  story  would  not  be  told  so  often 
unless  it  had  some  base  in  fact ;  nor  (if  there  were  no  bond 
at  all  between  the  Red  Macgregors  and  the  Stevensons) 
would  that  extraneous  and  somewhat  uncouth  name  be  so 
much  repeated  in  the  legends  of  the  Children  of  the  Mist. 

1  Though  the  districts  here  named  are  those  in  which  the  name  of 
Stevenson  is  most  common,  it  is  in  point  of  fact  far  more  wide-spread 
than  the  text  indicates,  and  occurs  from  Dumfries  and  Berwickshire  to 
Aberdeen  and  Orkney. 

203 


THE  SURNAME  OF  STEVENSON 

But  I  am  enabled,  by  my  very  lively  and  obliging 
correspondent,  Mr.  George  A.  Macgregor  Stevenson  of 
New  York,  to  give  an  actual  instance.  His  grandfather, 
great-grandfather,  great-great-grandfather,  and  great- 
great-great-grandfather,  all  used  the  names  of  Mac- 
gregor and  Stevenson  as  occasion  served;  being  perhaps 
Macgregor  by  night  and  Stevenson  by  day.  The  great- 
great-great-grandfather  was  a  mighty  man  of  his  hands, 
marched  with  the  clan  in  the  Forty-five,  and  returned 
with  spolia  opima  in  the  shape  of  a  sword,  which  he 
had  wrested  from  an  officer  in  the  retreat,  and  which 
is  in  the  possession  of  my  correspondent  to  this  day. 
His  great-grandson  (the  grandfather  of  my  correspon- 
dent), being  converted  to  Methodism  by  some  wayside 
preacher,  discarded  in  a  moment  his  name,  his  old  nature, 
and  his  political  principles,  and  with  the  zeal  of  a 
proselyte  sealed  his  adherence  to  the  Protestant  Suc- 
cession by  baptising  his  next  son  George.  This  George 
became  the  publisher  and  editor  of  the  Wezhyan  Times. 
His  children  were  brought  up  in  ignorance  of  their 
Highland  pedigree;  and  my  correspondent  was  puzzled 
to  overhear  his  father  speak  of  him  as  a  true  Macgregor, 
and  amazed  to  find,  in  rummaging  about  that  peaceful 
and  pious  house,  the  sword  of  the  Hanoverian  officer. 
After  he  was  grown  up  and  was  better  informed  of  his 
descent,  "I  frequently  asked  my  father,"  he  writes, 
"why  he  did  not  use  the  name  of  Macgregor;  his  re- 
plies were  significant,  and  give  a  picture  of  the  man : 
'  It  isn't  a  good  Methodist  name.  You  can  use  it,  but  it 
will  do  you  no  good.'  Yet  the  old  gentleman,  by  way 
of  pleasantry,  used  to  announce  himself  to  friends  as 
'  Colonel  Macgregor.' " 

203 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

Here,  then,  are  certain  Macgregors  habitually  using 
the  name  of  Stevenson,  and  at  last,  under  the  influence 
of  Methodism,  adopting  it  entirely.  Doubtless  a  pro- 
scribed clan  could  not  be  particular;  they  took  a  name 
as  a  man  takes  an  umbrella  against  a  shower;  as  Rob 
Roy  took  Campbell,  and  his  son  took  Drummond. 
But  this  case  is  different;  Stevenson  was  not  taken  and 
left  —  it  was  consistently  adhered  to.  It  does  not  in 
the  least  follow  that  all  Stevensons  are  of  the  clan  Alpin; 
but  it  does  follow  that  some  may  be.  And  I  cannot 
conceal  from  myself  the  possibility  that  James  Steven- 
son in  Glasgow,  my  first  authentic  ancestor,  may  have 
had  a  Highland  alias  upon  his  conscience  and  a  clay- 
more in  his  back  parlour. 

To  one  more  tradition  I  may  allude,  that  we  are 
somehow  descended  from  a  French  barber-surgeon  who 
came  to  St.  Andrews  in  the  service  of  one  of  the  Car- 
dinal Beatons.  No  details  were  added.  But  the  very 
name  of  France  was  so  detested  in  my  family  for  three 
generations,  that  I  am  tempted  to  suppose  there  may 
be  something  in  it.1 

1  Mr.  J.  H.  Stevenson  is  satisfied  that  these  speculations  as  to  a  pos- 
sible Norse,  Highland,  or  French  origin  are  vain.  All  we  know  about 
the  engineer  family  is  that  it  was  sprung  from  a  stock  of  Westland 
Whigs  settled  in  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century  in  the  par- 
ish of  Neilston,  as  mentioned  at  the  beginning  of  the  next  chapter.  It 
may  be  noted  that  the  Ayrshire  parish  of  Stevenston,  the  lands  of 
which  are  said  to  have  received  the  name  in  the  twelfth  century,  lies 
within  thirteen  miles  south-west  of  this  place.  The  lands  of  Steven- 
son in  Lanarkshire,  first  mentioned  in  the  next  century,  in  the  Ragman 
Roll,  lie  within  twenty  miles  east. 


204 


CHAPTER  I 

DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

IT  is  believed  that  in  1665,  James  Stevenson  in  Nether 
Carsewell,  parish  ofNeilston,  county  of  Renfrew,  and 
presumably  a  tenant  farmer,  married  one  Jean  Keir;  and 
in  1675,  without  doubt,  there  was  born  to  these  two  a 
son  Robert,  possibly  a  maltster  in  Glasgow.  In  1710, 
Robert  married,  for  a  second  time,  Elizabeth  Gumming, 
and  there  was  born  to  them,  in  1720,  another  Robert, 
certainly  a  maltster  in  Glasgow.  In  1742,  Robert  the 
second  married  Margaret  Fulton  (Margret,  she  called 
herself),  by  whom  he  had  ten  children,  among  whom 
were  Hugh,  born  February  1749,  and  Alan,  born  June 
1752. 

With  these  two  brothers  my  story  begins.  Their 
deaths  were  simultaneous;  their  lives  unusually  brief 
and  full.  Tradition  whispered  me  in  childhood  they 
were  the  owners  of  an  islet  near  St.  Kitts ;  and  it  is  cer- 
tain they  had  risen  to  be  at  the  head  of  considerable  in- 
terests in  the  West  Indies,  which  Hugh  managed  abroad 
and  Alan  at  home,  at  an  age  when  others  are  still  cur- 
veting a  clerk's  stool.  My  kinsman,  Mr.  Stevenson  of 
Stirling,  has  heard  his  father  mention  that  there  had 
been  "something  romantic"  about  Alan's  marriage: 
and,  alas !  he  has  forgotten  what.  It  was  early  at  least. 

205 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

His  wife  was  Jean,  daughter  of  David  Lillie,  a  builder  in 
Glasgow,  and  several  times  "  Deacon  of  the  Wrights": 
the  date  of  the  marriage  has  not  reached  me :  but  on  8th 
June  1772,  when  Robert,  the  only  child  of  the  union, 
was  born,  the  husband  and  father  had  scarce  passed,  or 
had  not  yet  attained,  his  twentieth  year.  Here  was  a 
youth  making  haste  to  give  hostages  to  fortune.  But 
this  early  scene  of  prosperity  in  love  and  business  was 
on  the  point  of  closing. 

There  hung  in  the  house  of  this  young  family,  and 
successively  in  those  of  my  grandfather  and  father,  an 
oil  painting  of  a  ship  of  many  tons  burthen.  Doubtless 
the  brothers  had  an  interest  in  the  vessel;  I  was  told 
she  had  belonged  to  them  outright;  and  the  picture  was 
preserved  through  years  of  hardship,  and  remains  to 
this  day  in  the  possession  of  the  family,  the  only  memo- 
rial of  my  great-grandsire  Alan.  It  was  on  this  ship  that 
he  sailed  on  his  last  adventure,  summoned  to  the  West 
Indies  by  Hugh.  An  agent  had  proved  unfaithful  on  a 
serious  scale;  and  it  used  to  be  told  me  in  my  child- 
hood how  the  brothers  pursued  him  from  one  island  to 
another  in  an  open  boat,  were  exposed  to  the  perni- 
cious dews  of  the  tropics,  and  simultaneously  struck 
down.  The  dates  and  places  of  their  deaths  (now  be- 
fore me)  would  seem  to  indicate  a  more  scattered  and 
prolonged  pursuit:  Hugh,  on  the  i6th  April  1774,  in 
Tobago,  within  sight  of  Trinidad ;  Alan,  so  late  as  May 
26th,  and  so  far  away  as  "Santt  Kittes,"  in  the  Lee- 
ward Islands  —  both,  says  the  family  Bible,  "of  a 
fiver  "  ( !).  The  death  of  Hugh  was  probably  announced 
by  Alan  in  a  letter,  to  which  we  may  refer  the  details 
of  the  open  boat  and  the  dew.  Thus,  at  least,  in  some- 

206 


DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

thing  like  the  course  of  post,  both  were  called  away, 
the  one  twenty-five,  the  other  twenty-two;  their  brief 
generation  became  extinct,  their  short-lived  house  fell 
with  them;  and  "in  these  lawless  parts  and  lawless 
times  "  —  the  words  are  my  grandfather's  —  their  prop- 
erty was  stolen  or  became  involved.  Many  years  later, 
I  understand  some  small  recovery  to  have  been  made; 
but  at  the  moment  almost  the  whole  means  of  the  fam- 
ily seem  to  have  perished  with  the  young  merchants. 
On  the  27th  April,  eleven  days  after  Hugh  Stevenson, 
twenty-nine  before  Alan,  died  David  Lillie,  the  deacon 
of  the  wrights;  so  that  mother  and  son  were  orphaned 
in  one  month.  Thus,  from  a  few  scraps  of  paper  bear- 
ing little  beyond  dates,  we  construct  the  outlines  of  the 
tragedy  that  shadowed  the  cradle  of  Robert  Stevenson. 

Jean  Lillie  was  a  young  woman  of  strong  sense,  well 
fitted  to  contend  with  poverty,  and  of  a  pious  disposi- 
tion, which  it  is  like  that  these  misfortunes  heated. 
Like  so  many  other  widowed  Scotswomen,  she  vowed 
her  son  should  wag  his  head  in  a  pulpit;  but  her  means 
were  inadequate  to  her  ambition.  A  charity  school, 
and  some  time  under  a  Mr.  M'Intyre,  "a  famous  lin- 
guist," were  all  she  could  afford  in  the  way  of  educa- 
tion to  the  would-be  minister.  He  learned  no  Greek; 
in  one  place  he  mentions  that  the  Orations  of  Cicero 
were  his  highest  book  in  Latin ;  in  another  that  he  had 
"  delighted  "  in  Virgil  and  Horace ;  but  his  delight  could 
never  have  been  scholarly.  This  appears  to  have  been 
the  whole  of  his  training  previous  to  an  event  which 
changed  his  own  destiny  and  moulded  that  of  his  de- 
scendants—  the  second  marriage  of  his  mother. 

There  was  a  Merchant-Burgess  of  Edinburgh  of  the 
207 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

name  of  Thomas  Smith.  The  Smith  pedigree  has  been 
traced  a  little  more  particularly  than  the  Stevensons', 
with  a  similar  dearth  of  illustrious  names.  One  char- 
acter seems  to  have  appeared,  indeed,  for  a  moment  at 
the  wings  of  history:  a  skipper  of  Dundee  who  smug- 
gled over  some  Jacobite  big-wig  at  the  time  of  the  Fifteen, 
and  was  afterwards  drowned  in  Dundee  harbour  while 
going  on  board  his  ship.  With  this  exception,  the 
generations  of  the  Smiths  present  no  conceivable  inter- 
est even  to  a  descendant;  and  Thomas,  of  Edinburgh, 
was  the  first  to  issue  from  respectable  obscurity.  His 
father,  a  skipper  out  of  Broughty  Ferry,  was  drowned 
at  sea  while  Thomas  was  still  young.  He  seems  to 
have  owned  a  ship  or  two — whalers,  I  suppose,  or 
coasters  —  and  to  have  been  a  member  of  the  Dundee 
Trinity  House,  whatever  that  implies.  On  his  death 
the  widow  remained  in  Broughty,  and  the  son  came  to 
push  his  future  in  Edinburgh.  There  is  a  story  told  of 
him  in  the  family  which  I  repeat  here  because  I  shall 
have  to  tell  later,  on  a  similar,  but  more  perfectly  authen- 
ticated, experience  of  his  stepson,  Robert  Stevenson. 
Word  reached  Thomas  that  his  mother  was  unwell,  and 
he  prepared  to  leave  for  Broughty  on  the  morrow.  It 
was  between  two  and  three  in  the  morning,  and  the 
early  northern  daylight  was  already  clear,  when  he 
awoke  and  beheld  the  curtains  at  the  bed-foot  drawn 
aside  and  his  mother  appear  in  the  interval,  smile  upon 
him  for  a  moment,  and  then  vanish.  The  sequel  is 
stereotype;  he  took  the  time  by  his  watch,  and  arrived 
at  Broughty  to  learn  it  was  the  very  moment  of  her 
death.  The  incident  is  at  least  curious  in  having  hap- 
pened to  such  a  person  —  as  the  tale  is  being  told  of 

208 


DOMESTIC   ANNALS 

him.  In  all  else,  he  appears  as  a  man,  ardent,  passion- 
ate, practical,  designed  for  affairs  and  prospering  in 
them  far  beyond  the  average.  He  founded  a  solid  busi- 
ness in  lamps  and  oils,  and  was  the  sole  proprietor  of  a 
concern  called  the  Greenside  Company's  Works — "a 
multifarious  concern  it  was,"  writes  my  cousin,  Profes- 
sor Swan,  "  of  tinsmiths,  coppersmiths,  brassfounders, 
blacksmiths,  and  japanners."  He  was  also,  it  seems,  a 
shipowner  and  underwriter.  He  built  himself  "a  land  " 
—  Nos.  i  and  2  Baxter's  Place,  then  no  such  unfash- 
ionable neighbourhood  —  and  died,  leaving  his  only 
son  in  easy  circumstances,  and  giving  to  his  three  sur- 
viving daughters  portions  of  five  thousand  pounds  and 
upwards.  There  is  no  standard  of  success  in  life;  but 
in  one  of  its  meanings,  this  is  to  succeed. 

In  what  we  know  of  his  opinions,  he  makes  a  figure 
highly  characteristic  of  the  time.  A  high  tory  and  pa- 
triot, a  captain  —  so  I  find  it  in  my  notes  —  of  Edin- 
burgh Spearmen,  and  on  duty  in  the  Castle  during  the 
Muir  and  Palmer  troubles,  he  bequeathed  to  his  de- 
scendants a  bloodless  sword  and  a  somewhat  violent 
tradition,  both  long  preserved.  The  judge  who  sat  on 
Muir  and  Palmer,  the  famous  Braxfield,  let  fall  from  the 
bench  the  obiter  dictum  —  "I  never  liked  the  French 
all  my  days,  but  now  I  hate  them."  If  Thomas  Smith, 
the  Edinburgh  Spearman,  were  in  court,  he  must  have 
been  tempted  to  applaud.  The  people  of  that  land 
were  his  abhorrence;  he  loathed  Buonaparte  like  Anti- 
christ. Towards  the  end  he  fell  into  a  kind  of  dotage; 
his  family  must  entertain  him  with  games  of  tin  sol- 
diers, which  he  took  a  childish  pleasure  to  array  and 
overset;  but  those  who  played  with  him  must  be  upon 

209 


A   FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

their  guard,  for  if  his  side,  which  was  always  that  of 
the  English  against  the  French,  should  chance  to  be 
defeated,  there  would  be  trouble  in  Baxter's  Place. 
For  these  opinions  he  may  almost  be  said  to  have  suf- 
fered. Baptized  and  brought  up  in  the  Church  of  Scot- 
land, he  had,  upon  some  conscientious  scruple,  joined 
*he  communion  of  the  Baptists.  Like  other  Noncon- 
formists, these  were  inclined  to  the  liberal  side  in  poli- 
tics, and,  at  least  in  the  beginning,  regarded  Buonaparte 
as  a  deliverer.  From  the  time  of  his  joining  the  Spear- 
men, Thomas  Smith  became  in  consequence  a  bugbear 
to  his  brethren  in  the  faith.  "  They  that  take  the  sword 
shall  perish  with  the  sword,"  they  told  him;  they  gave 
him  "no  rest";  "his  position  became  intolerable ";  it 
was  plain  he  must  choose  between  his  political  and  his 
religious  tenets;  and  in  the  last  years  of  his  life,  about 
1812,  he  returned  to  the  Church  of  his  fathers. 

August  1786  was  the  date  of  his  chief  advancement, 
when,  having  designed  a  system  of  oil  lights  to  take 
the  place  of  the  primitive  coal  fires  before  in  use,  he 
was  dubbed  engineer  to  the  newly-formed  Board  of 
Northern  Lighthouses.  Not  only  were  his  fortunes  bet- 
tered by  the  appointment,  but  he  was  introduced  to  a 
new  and  wider  field  for  the  exercise  of  his  abilities,  and 
a  new  way  of  life  highly  agreeable  to  his  active  consti- 
tution. He  seems  to  have  rejoiced  in  the  long  journeys, 
and  to  have  combined  them  with  the  practice  of  field 
sports.  "A  tall,  stout  man  coming  ashore  with  his 
gun  over  his  arm  " — so  he  was  described  to  my  father 
—  the  only  description  that  has  come  down  to  me  —  by 
a  lightkeeper  old  in  the  service.  Nor  did  this  change 
come  alone.  On  the  9th  July  of  the  same  year,  Tho- 


DOMESTIC   ANNALS 

mas  Smith  had  been  left  for  the  second  time  a  widower. 
As  he  was  still  but  thirty-three  years  old,  prospering  in 
his  affairs,  newly  advanced  in  the  world,  and  encum- 
bered at  the  time  with  a  family  of  children,  five  in  num- 
ber, it  was  natural  that  he  should  entertain  the  notion 
of  another  wife.  Expeditious  in  business,  he  was  no 
less  so  in  his  choice;  and  it  was  not  later  than  June 
1787  —  for  my  grandfather  is  described  as  still  in  his 
fifteenth  year  —  that  he  married  the  widow  of  Alan 
Stevenson. 

The  perilous  experiment  of  bringing  together  two 
families  for  once  succeeded.  Mr.  Smith's  two  eldest 
daughters,  Jean  and  Janet,  fervent  in  piety,  unwearied 
in  kind  deeds,  were  well  qualified  both  to  appreciate 
and  to  attract  the  stepmother;  and  her  son,  on  the 
other  hand,  seems  to  have  found  immediate  favour  in 
the  eyes  of  Mr.  Smith.  It  is,  perhaps,  easy  to  exag- 
gerate the  ready-made  resemblances;  the  tired  woman 
must  have  done  much  to  fashion  girls  who  were  under 
ten ;  the  man,  lusty  and  opinionated,  must  have  stamped 
a  strong  impression  on  the  boy  of  fifteen.  But  the 
cleavage  of  the  family  was  too  marked,  the  identity  of 
character  and  interest  produced  between  the  two  men 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  three  women  on  the  other, 
was  too  complete  to  have  been  the  result  of  influence 
alone.  Particular  bonds  of  union  must  have  pre-existed 
on  each  side.  And  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  man  and 
the  boy  met  with  common  ambitions,  and  a  common 
bent,  to  the  practice  of  that  which  had  not  so  long  be- 
fore acquired  the  name  of  civil  engineering. 

For  the  profession  which  is  now  so  thronged,  famous, 
and  influential,  was  then  a  thing  of  yesterday.  My 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

grandfather  had  an  anecdote  of  Smeaton,  probably 
learned  from  John  Clerk  of  Eldin,  their  common  friend. 
Smeaton  was  asked  by  the  Duke  of  Argyll  to  visit  the 
West  Highland  coast  for  a  professional  purpose.  He 
refused,  appalled,  it  seems,  by  the  rough  travelling. 
"You  can  recommend  some  other  fit  person?"  asked 
the  Duke.  "No,"  said  Smeaton,  "  I  am  sorry  I  can't." 
"  What! "  cried  the  Duke,  "a  profession  with  only  one 
man  in  it!  Pray,  who  taught  you?"  "Why,"  said 
Smeaton,  "I  believe  I  may  say  I  was  self-taught,  an  't 
please  your  grace."  Smeaton,  at  the  date  of  Thomas 
Smith's  third  marriage,  was  yet  living;  and  as  the  one 
had  grown  to  the  new  profession  from  his  place  at  the 
Instrument-maker's,  the  other  was  beginning  to  enter 
it  by  the  way  of  his  trade.  The  engineer  of  to-day  is 
confronted  with  a  library  of  acquired  results;  tables  and 
formulae  to  the  value  of  folios  full  have  been  calculated 
and  recorded;  and  the  student  finds  everywhere  in  front 
of  him  the  footprints  of  the  pioneers.  In  the  eighteenth 
century  the  field  was  largely  unexplored ;  the  engineer 
must  read  with  his  own  eyes  the  face  of  nature;  he 
arose  a  volunteer,  from  the  workshop  or  the  mill,  to 
undertake  works  which  were  at  once  inventions  and 
adventures.  It  was  not  a  science  then  —  it  was  a  living 
art;  and  it  visibly  grew  under  the  eyes  and  between  the 
hands  of  its  practitioners. 

The  charm  of  such  an  occupation  was  strongly  felt 
by  stepfather  and  stepson.  It  chanced  that  Thomas 
Smith  was  a  reformer;  the  superiority  of  his  proposed 
lamp  and  reflectors  over  open  fires  of  coal  secured  his 
appointment;  and  no  sooner  had  he  set  his  hand  to  the 
task  than  the  interest  of  that  employment  mastered  him. 

212 


DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

The  vacant  stage  on  which  he  was  to  act,  and  where 
all  had  yet  to  be  created  —  the  greatness  of  the  difficul- 
ties, the  smallness  of  the  means  intrusted  him  —  would 
rouse  a  man  of  his  disposition  like  a  call  to  battle.  The 
lad  introduced  by  marriage  under  his  roof  was  of  a  char- 
acter to  sympathize;  the  public  usefulness  of  the  service 
would  appeal  to  his  judgment,  the  perpetual  need  for 
fresh  expedients  stimulate  his  ingenuity.  And  there 
was  another  attraction  which,  in  the  younger  man  at 
least,  appealed  to,  and  perhaps  first  aroused  a  profound 
and  enduring  sentiment  of  romance:  I  mean  the  attrac- 
tion of  the  life.  The  seas  into  which  his  labours  carried 
the  new  engineer  were  still  scarce  charted,  the  coasts 
still  dark;  his  way  on  shore  was  often  far  beyond  the 
convenience  of  any  road;  the  isles  in  which  he  must  so- 
journ were  still  partly  savage.  He  must  toss  much  in 
boats;  he  must  often  adventure  on  horseback  by  the 
dubious  bridle-track  through  unfrequented  wildernesses; 
he  must  sometimes  plant  his  lighthouse  in  the  very 
camp  of  wreckers ;  and  he  was  continually  enforced  to 
the  vicissitudes  of  out-door  life.  The  joy  of  my  grand- 
father in  this  career  was  strong  as  the  love  of  woman. 
It  lasted  him  through  youth  and  manhood,  it  burned 
strong  in  age,  and  at  the  approach  of  death  his  last 
yearning  was  to  renew  these  loved  experiences.  What 
he  felt  himself  he  continued  to  attribute  to  all  around 
him.  And  to  this  supposed  sentiment  in  others  I  find 
him  continually,  almost  pathetically,  appealing:  often 
in  vain. 

Snared  by  these  interests,  the  boy  seems  to  have 
become  almost  at  once  the  eager  confident  and  adviser 
of  his  new  connection ;  the  Church,  if  he  had  ever  en- 

213 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

tertained  the  prospect  very  warmly,  faded  from  his 
view;  and  at  the  age  of  nineteen  I  find  him  already  in  a 
post  of  some  authority,  superintending  the  construction 
of  the  lighthouse  on  the  isle  of  Little  Cumbrae,  in  the 
Firth  of  Clyde.  The  change  of  aim  seems  to  have  caused 
or  been  accompanied  by  a  change  of  character.  It 
sounds  absurd  to  couple  the  name  of  my  grandfather 
with  the  word  indolence;  but  the  lad  who  had  been 
destined  from  the  cradle  to  the  Church,  and  who  had 
attained  the  age  of  fifteen  without  acquiring  more  than 
a  moderate  knowledge  of  Latin,  was  at  least  no  unusual 
student.  And  from  the  day  of  his  charge  at  Little 
Cumbrae  he  steps  before  us  what  he  remained  until  the 
end,  a  man  of  the  most  zealous  industry,  greedy  of  oc- 
cupation, greedy  of  knowledge,  a  stern  husband  of 
time,  a  reader,  a  writer,  unflagging  in  his  task  of  self- 
improvement.  Thenceforward  his  summers  were  spent 
directing  works  and  ruling  workmen,  now  in  unin- 
habited, now  in  half-savage  islands;  his  winters  were 
set  apart,  first  at  the  Andersonian  Institution,  then  at  the 
University  of  Edinburgh  to  improve  himself  in  mathe- 
matics, chemistry,  natural  history,  agriculture,  moral 
philosophy,  and  logic;  a  bearded  student  —  although  no 
doubt  scrupulously  shaved.  I  find  one  reference  to  his 
years  in  class  which  will  have  a  meaning  for  all  who 
have  studied  in  Scottish  Universities.  He  mentions  a 
recommendation  made  by  the  professor  of  logic.  "The 
high-school  men,"  he  writes,  "and  bearded  men  like 
myself,  were  all  attention."  If  my  grandfather  were 
throughout  life  a  thought  too  studious  of  the  art  of  get- 
ting on,  much  must  be  forgiven  to  the  bearded  and  be- 
lated student  who  looked  across,  with  a  sense  of  differ- 

214 


DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

ence,  at  "the  high-school  men."  Here  was  a  gulf  to 
be  crossed;  but  already  he  could  feel  that  he  had  made 
a  beginning,  and  that  must  have  been  a  proud  hour 
when  he  devoted  his  earliest  earnings  to  the  repayment 
of  the  charitable  foundation  in  which  he  had  received 
the  rudiments  of  knowledge. 

In  yet  another  way  he  followed  the  example  of  his 
father-in-law,  and  from  1794  till  1807,  when  the  affairs 
of  the  Bell  Rock  made  it  necessary  for  him  to  resign,  he 
served  in  different  corps  of  volunteers.  In  the  last  of 
these  he  rose  to  a  position  of  distinction,  no  less  than 
captain  of  the  Grenadier  Company,  and  his  colonel,  in 
accepting  his  resignation,  entreated  he  would  do  them 
"  the  favour  of  continuing  as  an  honorary  member  of  a 
corps  which  has  been  so  much  indebted  for  your  zeal 
and  exertions." 

To  very  pious  women  the  men  of  the  house  are  apt 
to  appear  worldly.  The  wife,  as  she  puts  on  her  new 
bonnet  before  church,  is  apt  to  sigh  over  that  assiduity 
which  enabled  her  husband  to  pay  the  milliner's  bill. 
And  in  the  household  of  the  Smiths  and  Stevensons  the 
women  were  not  only  extremely  pious,  but  the  men 
were  in  reality  a  trifle  worldly.  Religious  they  both 
were;  conscious,  like  all  Scots,  of  the  fragility  and  un- 
reality of  that  scene  in  which  we  play  our  uncompre- 
hended  parts;  like  all  Scots,  realizing  daily  and  hourly 
the  sense  of  another  will  than  ours  and  a  perpetual 
direction  in  the  affairs  of  life.  But  the  current  of  their 
endeavours  flowed  in  a  more  obvious  channel.  They 
had  got  on  so  far;  to  get  on  further  was  their  next  am- 
bition —  to  gather  wealth,  to  rise  in  society,  to  leave 
their  descendants  higher  than  themselves,  to  be  (in  some 

215 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

sense)  among  the  founders  of  families.  Scott  was  in 
the  same  town  nourishing  similar  dreams.  But  in  the 
eyes  of  the  women  these  dreams  would  be  foolish  and 
idolatrous. 

I  have  before  me  some  volumes  of  old  letters  addressed 
to  Mrs.  Smith  and  the  two  girls,  her  favourites,  which 
depict  in  a  strong  light  their  characters  and  the  society 
in  which  they  moved. 

"My  very  dear  and  much  esteemed  Friend, ".writes  one  correspon- 
dent, "this  day  being  the  anniversary  of  our  acquaintance,  I  feel  in- 
clined to  address  you;  but  where  shall  I  find  words  to  express  the  feel- 
ings of  a  graitful  Heart,  first  to  the  Lord  who  graiciously  inclined  you 
on  this  day  last  year  to  notice  an  afflicted  Strainger  providentially  cast  in 
your  way  far  from  any  Earthly  friend  ?  .  .  .  Methinks  I  shall  hear  him 
say  unto  you,  '  Inasmuch  as  ye  shewed  kindness  to  my  afflicted  hand- 
maiden, ye  did  it  unto  me. ' " 

This  is  to  Jean ;  but  the  same  afflicted  lady  wrote  in- 
differently to  Jean,  to  Janet,  and  to  Mrs.  Smith,  whom 
she  calls  "  my  Edinburgh  mother."  It  is  plain  the  three 
were  as  one  person,  moving  to  acts  of  kindness,  like 
the  Graces,  inarmed.  Too  much  stress  must  not  be  laid 
on  the  style  of  this  correspondence;  Clarinda  survived, 
not  far  away,  and  may  have  met  the  ladies  on  the  Calton 
Hill;  and  many  of  the  writers  appear,  underneath  the 
conventions  of  the  period,  to  be  genuinely  moved.  But 
what  unpleasantly  strikes  a  reader  is  that  these  devout 
unfortunates  found  a  revenue  in  their  devotion.  It  is 
everywhere  the  same  tale :  on  the  side  of  the  soft-hearted 
ladies,  substantial  acts  of  help ;  on  the  side  of  the  cor- 
respondents, affection,  italics,  texts,  ecstasies,  and  im- 
perfect spelling.  When  a  midwife  is  recommended, 
not  at  all  for  proficiency  in  her  important  art,  but  be- 

216 


DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

cause  she  has  "a  sister  whom  I  [the  correspondent] 
esteem  and  respect,  and  [who]  is  a  spiritual  daugh- 
ter of  my  Hond  Father  in  the  Gosple,"  the  mask 
seems  to  be  torn  off,  and  the  wages  of  godliness  appear 
too  openly.  Capacity  is  a  secondary  matter  in  a  mid- 
wife, temper  in  a  servant,  affection  in  a  daughter,  and 
the  repetition  of  a  shibboleth  fulfils  the  law.  Common 
decency  is  at  times  forgot  in  the  same  page  with  the 
most  sanctified  advice  and  aspiration.  Thus  I  am  in- 
troduced to  a  correspondent  who  appears  to  have  been 
at  the  time  the  housekeeper  at  Inverrnay,  and  who 
writes  to  condole  with  my  grandmother  in  a  season  of 
distress.  For  nearly  half  a  sheet  she  keeps  to  the  point 
with  an  excellent  discretion  in  language;  then  suddenly 
breaks  out: 

"  It  was  fully  my  intention  to  have  left  this  at  Martinmass,  but  the 
Lord  fixes  the  bounds  of  our  habitation.  I  have  had  more  need  of  pa- 
tience in  my  situation  here  than  in  any  other,  partly  from  the  very  violent, 
unsteady,  deceitful  temper  of  the  Mistress  of  the  Family,  and  also  from 
the  state  of  the  house.  It  was  in  a  train  of  repair  when  I  came  here  two 
years  ago,  and  is  still  in  Confusion.  There  is  above  six  Thousand  Pounds' 
worth  of  Furniture  come  from  London  to  be  put  up  when  the  rooms 
are  completely  finished;  and  then,  woe  be  to  the  Person  who  is 
Housekeeper  at  Inverrnay  !  " 

And  by  the  tail  of  the  document,  which  is  torn,  I  see 
she  goes  on  to  ask  the  bereaved  family  to  seek  her  a  new 
place.  It  is  extraordinary  that  people  should  have  been 
so  deceived  in  so  careless  an  impostor;  that  a  few 
sprinkled  "God  willings  "  should  have  blinded  them  to 
the  essence  of  this  venomous  letter;  and  that  they  should 
have  been  at  the  pains  to  bind  it  in  with  others  (many 
of  them  highly  touching)  in  their  memorial  of  harrow- 

217 


A   FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

ing  days.  But  the  good  ladies  were  without  guile  and 
without  suspicion;  they  were  victims  marked  for  the 
axe,  and  the  religious  impostors  snuffed  up  the  wind 
as  they  drew  near. 

I  have  referred  above  to  my  grandmother;  it  was  no 
slip  of  the  pen :  for  by  an  extraordinary  arrangement,  in 
which  it  is  hard  not  to  suspect  the  managing  hand  of. a 
mother,  Jean  Smith  became  the  wife  of  Robert  Steven- 
son. Mrs.  Smith  had  failed  in  her  design  to  make  her 
son  a  minister,  and  she  saw  him  daily  more  immersed 
in  business  and  worldly  ambition.  One  thing  remained 
that  she  might  do:  she  might  secure  for  him  a  godly 
wife,  that  great  means  of  sanctification;  and  she  had 
two  under  her  hand,  trained  by  herself,  her  dear  friends 
and  daughters  both  in  law  and  love — Jean  and  Janet. 
Jean's  complexion  was  extremely  pale,  Janet's  was  florid ; 
my  grandmother's  nose  was  straight,  my  great-aunt's 
aquiline;  but  by  the  sound  of  the  voice,  not  even  a  son 
was  able  to  distinguish  one  from  other.  The  marriage 
of  a  man  of  twenty-seven  and  a  girl  of  twenty  who 
have  lived  for  twelve  years  as  brother  and  sister,  is  diffi- 
cult to  conceive.  It  took  place,  however,  and  thus  in 
1799  the  family  was  still  further  cemented  by  the  union 
of  a  representative  of  the  male  or  worldly  element  with 
one  of  the  female  and  devout. 

This  essential  difference  remained  unbridged,  yet 
never  diminished  the  strength  of  their  relation.  My 
grandfather  pursued  his  design  of  advancing  in  the 
world  with  some  measure  of  success;  rose  to  distinction 
in  his  calling,  grew  to  be  the  familiar  of  members  of 
Parliament,  judges  of  the  Court  of  Session,  and  "landed 
gentlemen  ";  learned  a  ready  address,  had  a  flow  of  in- 

218 


DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

teresting  conversation,  and  when  he  was  referred  to  as 
"a  highly  respectable  bourgeois,"  resented  the  descrip- 
tion. My  grandmother  remained  to  the  end  devout  and 
unambitious,  occupied  with  her  Bible,  her  children,  and 
her  house;  easily  shocked,  and  associating  largely  with 
a  clique  of  godly  parasites.  I  do  not  know  if  she  called 
in  the  midwife  already  referred  to;  but  the  principle  on 
which  that  lady  was  recommended,  she  accepted  fully. 
The  cook  was  a  godly  woman,  the  butcher  a  Christian 
man,  and  the  table  suffered.  The  scene  has  been  often 
described  to  me  of  my  grandfather  sawing  with  dark- 
ened countenance  at  some  indissoluble  joint — "Pre- 
serve me,  my  dear,  what  kind  of  a  reedy,  stringy  beast 
is  this?"  —  of  the  joint  removed,  the  pudding  substi- 
tuted and  uncovered;  and  of  my  grandmother's  anxious 
glance  and  hasty,  deprecatory  comment,  "Just  mis- 
managed ! "  Yet  with  the  invincible  obstinacy  of  soft 
natures,  she  would  adhere  to  the  godly  woman  and  the 
Christian  man,  or  find  others  of  the  same  kidney  to  re- 
place them.  One  of  her  confidants  had  once  a  narrow 
escape;  an  unwieldy  old  woman,  she  had  fallen  from 
an  outside  stair  in  a  close  of  the  Old  Town ;  and  my 
grandmother  rejoiced  to  communicate  the  providential 
circumstance  that  a  baker  had  been  passing  underneath 
with  his  bread  upon  his  head.  "I  would  like  to  know 
what  kind  of  providence  the  baker  thought  it!"  cried 
my  grandfather. 

But  the  sally  must  have  been  unique.  In  all  else  that 
1  have  heard  or  read  of  him,  so  far  from  criticising,  he 
was  doing  his  utmost  to  honour  and  even  to  emulate 
his  wife's  pronounced  opinions.  In  the  only  letter 
which  has  come  to  my  hand  of  Thomas  Smith's,  I  find 

219 


A   FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

him  informing  his  wife  that  he  was  "in  time  for  after- 
noon church";  similar  assurances  or  cognate  excuses 
abound  in  the  correspondence  of  Robert  Stevenson; 
and  it  is  comical  and  pretty  to  see  the  two  generations 
paying  the  same  court  to  a  female  piety  more  highly 
strung:  Thomas  Smith  to  the  mother  of  Robert  Steven- 
son—  Robert  Stevenson  to  the  daughter  of  Thomas 
Smith.  And  if  for  once  my  grandfather  suffered  him- 
self to  be  hurried,  by  his  sense  of  humor  and  justice, 
into  that  remark  about  the  case  of  Providence  and  the 
Baker,  I  should  be  sorry  for  any  of  his  children  who 
should  have  stumbled  into  the  same  attitude  of  criti- 
cism. In  the  apocalyptic  style  of  the  housekeeper  of 
Invermay,  woe  be  to  that  person!  But  there  was  no 
fear;  husband  and  sons  all  entertained  for  the  pious, 
tender  soul  the  same  chivalrous  and  moved  affection. 
I  have  spoken  with  one  who  remembered  her,  and  who 
had  been  the  intimate  and  equal  of  her  sons,  and  I 
found  this  witness  had  been  struck,  as  I  had  been,  with 
a  sense  of  disproportion  between  the  warmth  of  the 
adoration  felt  and  the  nature  of  the  woman,  whether  as 
described  or  observed.  She  diligently  read  and  marked 
her  Bible;  she  was  a  tender  nurse;  she  had  a  sense  of 
humor  under  strong  control;  she  talked  and  found 
some  amusement  at  her  (or  rather  at  her  husband's) 
dinner-parties.  It  is  conceivable  that  even  my  grand- 
mother was  amenable  to  the  seductions  of  dress;  at  least 
I  find  her  husband  inquiring  anxiously  about  "  the 
gowns  from  Glasgow,"  and  very  careful  to  describe 
the  toilet  of  the  Princess  Charlotte,  whom  he  had  seen 
in  church  "in  a  Pelisse  and  Bonnet  of  the  same  colour 
of  cloth  as  the  Boys'  Dress  jackets,  trimmed  with  blue 


DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

satin  ribbons;  the  hat  or  Bonnet,  Mr.  Spittal  said,  was 
a  Parisian  sloutch,  and  had  a  plume  of  three  white 
feathers."  But  all  this  leaves  a  blank  impression,  and 
it  is  rather  by  reading  backward  in  these  old  musty  let- 
ters, which  have  moved  me  now  to  laughter  and  now 
to  impatience,  that  I  glean  occasional  glimpses  of  how 
she  seemed  to  her  contemporaries,  and  trace  (at  work 
in  her  queer  world  of  godly  and  grateful  parasites)  a 
mobile  and  responsive  nature.  Fashion  moulds  us, 
and  particularly  women,  deeper  than  we  sometimes 
think;  but  a  little  while  ago,  and,  in  some  circles, 
women  stood  or  fell  by  the  degree  of  their  appreciation 
of  old  pictures;  in  the  early  years  of  the  century  (and 
surely  with  more  reason)  a  character  like  that  of  my 
grandmother  warmed,  charmed,  and  subdued,  like  a 
strain  of  music,  the  hearts  of  the  men  of  her  own  house- 
hold. And  there  is  little  doubt  that  Mrs.  Smith,  as  she 
looked  on  at  the  domestic  life  of  her  son  and  her  step- 
daughter, and  numbered  the  heads  in  their  increasing 
nursery,  must  have  breathed  fervent  thanks  to  her  Cre- 
ator. 

Yet  this  was  to  be  a  family  unusually  tried;  it  was 
not  for  nothing  that  one  of  the  godly  women  saluted 
Miss  Janet  Smith  as  "a  veteran  in  affliction";  and  they 
were  all  before  middle  life  experienced  in  that  form  of 
service.  By  the  ist  of  January  1808,  besides  a  pair  of 
still-born  twins,  five  children  had  been  born  and  still 
survived  to  the  young  couple.  By  the  nth  two  were 
gone;  by  the  28th  a  third  had  followed,  and  the  two 
others  were  still  in  danger.  In  the  letters  of  a  former 
nurserymaid  —  I  give  her  name,  Jean  Mitchell,  honoris 
causa  —  we  are  enabled  to  feel,  even  at  this  distance  of 

321 


A  FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

time,  some  of  the  bitterness  of  that  month  of  bereave- 
ment 

"  I  have  this  day  received,"  she  writes  to  Miss  Janet,  "  th*  melan- 
choly news  of  my  dear  babys'  deaths.  My  heart  is  like  to  break  for 
my  dear  Mrs.  Stevenson.  O  may  she  be  supported  on  this  trying  oc- 
casion !  1  hope  her  other  three  babys  will  be  spared  to  her.  O,  Miss 
Smith,  did  I  think  when  I  parted  from  my  sweet  babys  that  I  never 
was  to  see  them  more?"  "I  received,"  she  begins  her  next,  "the 
mournful  news  of  my  dear  Jessie's  death.  I  also  received  the  hair  of 
my  three  sweet  babys,  which  I  will  preserve  as  dear  to  their  memorys 
and  as  a  token  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stevenson's  friendship  and  esteem.  At 
my  leisure  hours,  when  the  children  are  In  bed,  they  occupy  all  my 
thoughts.  I  dream  of  them.  About  two  weeks  ago,  I  dreamed  that 
my  sweet  little  Jessie  came  running  to  me  in  her  usual  way,  and  I  took 
her  in  my  arms.  O  my  dear  babys,  were  mortal  eyes  permitted  to  see 
them  in  heaven,  we  would  not  repine  nor  grieve  for  their  loss." 

By  the  29th  of  February,  the  Reverend  John  Camp- 
bell, a  man  of  obvious  sense  and  human  value,  but  hate- 
ful to  the  present  biographer,  because  he  wrote  so  many 
letters  and  conveyed  so  little  information,  summed  up 
this  first  period  of  affliction  in  a  letter  to  Miss  Smith : 
"  Your  dear  sister  but  a  little  while  ago  had  a  full 
nursery,  and  the  dear  blooming  creatures  sitting  around 
her  table  filled  her  breast  with  hope  that  one  day  they 
should  fill  active  stations  in  society  and  become  an  or- 
nament in  the  Church  below.  But  ah!  " 

Near  a  hundred  years  ago  these  little  creatures  ceased 
to  be,  and  for  not  much  less  a  period  the  tears  have 
been  dried.  And  to  this  day,  looking  in  these  stitched 
sheaves  of  letters,  we  hear  the  sound  of  many  soft- 
hearted women  sobbing  for  the  lost.  Never  was  such 
a  massacre  of  the  innocents ;  teething  and  chincough 

322 


DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

and  scarlet  fever  and  small-pox  ran  the  round;  and  lit- 
tle Lillies,  and  Smiths,  and  Stevensons  fell  like  moths 
about  a  candle;  and  nearly  all  the  sympathetic  corre- 
spondents deplore  and  recall  the  little  losses  of  their  own. 
"  It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  Heavnly  looks  of  the 
Dear  Babe  the  three  last  days  of  his  life,"  writes  Mrs. 
Laurie  to  Mrs.  Smith.  "  Never  —  never,  my  dear  aunt, 
could  I  wish  to  eface  the  rememberance  of  this  Dear 
Child.  Never,  never,  my  dear  aunt!"  And  so  soon 
the  memory  of  the  dead  and  the  dust  of  the  survivors 
are  buried  in  one  grave. 

There  was  another  death  in  1812;  it  passes  almost 
unremarked ;  a  single  funeral  seemed  but  a  small  event 
to  these  "veterans  in  affliction";  and  by  1816  the 
nursery  was  full  again.  Seven  little  hopefuls  enlivened 
the  house;  some  were  growing  up;  to  the  elder  girl 
my  grandfather  already  wrote  notes  in  current  hand  at 
the  tail  of  his  letters  to  his  wife;  and  to  the  elder  boys 
he  had  begun  to  print,  with  laborious  care,  sheets  of 
childish  gossip  and  pedantic  applications.  Here,  for  in- 
stance, under  date  of  May  26th,  1816,  is  part  of  a  myth- 
ological account  of  London,  with  a  moral  for  the  three 
gentlemen,  "Messieurs  Alan,  Robert,  and  James  Ste- 
venson," to  whom  the  document  is  addressed: 

"  There  are  many  prisons  here  like  Bridewell,  for,  like  other  large 
towns,  there  are  many  bad  men  here  as  well  as  many  good  men. 
The  natives  of  London  are  in  general  not  so  tall  and  strong  as  the  peo- 
ple of  Edinburgh,  because  they  have  not  so  much  pure  air,  and  instead 
of  taking  porridge  they  eat  cakes  made  with  sugar  and  plums.  Here 
you  have  thousands  of  carts  to  draw  timber,  thousands  of  coaches  to 
take  you  to  all  parts  of  the  town,  and  thousands  of  boats  to  sail  on  the 
river  Thames.  But  you  must  have  money  to  pay,  otherwise  you  can 

223 


A   FAMILY  OF   ENGINEERS 

get  nothing.     Now  the  way  to  get  money  is,  become  clever  men  and 
men  of  education,  by  being  good  scholars." 

From  the  same  absence,  he  writes  to  his  wife  on  a 
Sunday: 

"  It  is  now  about  eight  o'clock  with  me,  and  I  imagine  you  to  be 
busy  with  the  young  folks,  hearing  the  questions  [/tnglice,  catechism], 
and  indulging  the  boys  with  a  chapter  from  the  large  Bible,  with  their 
interrogations  and  your  answers  in  the  soundest  doctrine.  1  hope 
James  is  getting  his  verse  as  usual,  and  that  Mary  is  not  forgetting  her 
little  bymn.  While  Jeannie  will  be  reading  Wotherspoon,  or  some 
other  suitable  and  instructive  book,  I  presume  our  friend,  Aunt  Mary, 
will  have  just  arrived  with  the  news  of  a  tbrong  kirk  [a  crowded 
church]  and  a  great  sermon.  You  may  mention,  with  my  compli- 
ments to  my  mother,  that  I  was  at  St.  Paul's  to-day,  and  attended  a 
very  excellent  service  with  Mr.  James  Lawrie.  The  text  was  '  Examine 
and  see  that  ye  be  in  the  faith.' " 

A  twinkle  of  humor  lights  up  this  evocation  of  the 
distant  scene  —  the  humor  of  happy  men  and  happy 
homes.  Yet  it  is  penned  upon  the  threshold  of  fresh 
sorrow.  James  and  Mary  —  he  of  the  verse  and  she  of 
the  hymn  —  did  not  much  more  than  survive  to  wel- 
come their  returning  father.  On  the  25th,  one  of  the 
godly  women  writes  to  Janet : 

"  My  dearest  beloved  madam,  when  I  last  parted  from  you,  you  was 
so  affected  with  your  affiction  [you  ?  or  I  ?]  could  think  of  nothing 
else.  But  on  Saturday,  when  I  went  to  inquire  after  your  health,  how 
was  I  startled  to  hear  that  dear  James  was  gone!  Ah,  what  is  this? 
My  dear  benefactors,  doing  so  much  good  to  many,  to  the  Lord,  sud- 
denly to  be  deprived  of  their  most  valued  comforts!  I  was  thrown  into 
great  perplexity,  could  do  nothing  but  murmur,  why  these  things  were 
done  to  such  a  family.  I  could  not  rest,  but  at  midnight,  whether 
spoken  [or  not]  it  was  presented  to  my  mind  — '  Those  whom  ye  de- 
plore are  walking  with  me  in  white.'  I  conclude  from  this  the  Lord 

224 


DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

saying  to  sweet  Mrs.  Stevenson :  '  I  gave  them  to  be  brought  up  for 
me :  well  done,  good  and  faithful !  they  are  fully  prepared,  and  now  I 
must  present  them  to  my  father  and  your  father,  to  my  God  and  your 
God.' " 

It  would  be  hard  to  lay  on  flattery  with  a  more  sure 
and  daring  hand.  I  quote  it  as  a  model  of  a  letter  of 
condolence;  be  sure  it  would  console.  Very  different, 
perhaps  quite  as  welcome,  is  this  from  a  lighthouse  in- 
spector to  my  grandfather: 

"  In  reading  your  letter  the  trickling  tear  ran  down  my  cheeks  in  si- 
lent sorrow  for  your  departed  dear  ones,  my  sweet  little  friends.  Well 
do  I  remember,  and  you  will  call  to  mind,  their  little  innocent  and  in- 
teresting stories.  Often  have  they  come  round  me  and  taken  me  by 
the  hand,  but  alas!  I  am  no  more  destined  to  behold  them." 

The  child  who  is  taken  becomes  canonised,  and  the 
looks  of  the  homeliest  babe  seem  in  the  retrospect 
"  heavenly  the  three  last  days  of  his  life."  But  it  ap- 
pears that  James  and  Mary  had  indeed  been  children 
more  than  usually  engaging;  a  record  was  preserved  a 
long  while  in  the  family  of  their  remarks  and  "  little  in- 
nocent and  interesting  stories,"  and  the  blow  and  the 
blank  were  the  more  sensible. 

Early  the  next  month  Robert  Stevenson  must  proceed 
upon  his  voyage  of  inspection,  part  by  land,  part  by 
sea.  He  left  his  wife  plunged  in  low  spirits ;  the  thought 
of  his  loss,  and  still  more  of  her  concern,  was  contin- 
ually present  in  his  mind,  and  he  draws  in  his  letters 
home  an  interesting  picture  of  his  family  relations :  — 

"  Windy  gates  Inn,  Monday  (Postmark  July  \6tV). 
"  MY  DEAREST  JEANNIE, —  While  the  people  of  the  inn  are  getting  me 
a  little  bit  of  something  to  eat,  I  sit  down  to  tell  you  that  I  had  a  most 

125 


A  FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

excellent  passage  across  the  water,  and  got  to  Wemyss  at  mid-day.  I 
hope  the  children  will  be  very  good,  and  that  Robert  will  take  a  course 
with  you  to  learn  his  Latin  lessons  daily;  he  may,  however,  read  Eng- 
lish in  company.  Let  them  have  strawberries  on  Saturdays." 


"  tfestbaven, 

"  I  have  been  occupied  to-day  at  the  harbour  of  Newport,  opposite 
Dundee,  and  am  this  far  on  my  way  to  Arbroath.  You  may  tell  the 
boys  that  I  slept  last  night  in  Mr.  Steadman's  tent.  I  found  my  bed 
rather  hard,  but  the  lodgings  were  otherwise  extremely  comfortable. 
The  encampment  is  on  the  Fife  side  of  the  Tay,  immediately  opposite 
to  Dundee.  From  the  door  of  the  tent  you  command  the  most  beau- 
tiful view  of  the  Firth,  both  up  and  down,  to  a  great  extent.  At  night 
all  was  serene  and  still,  the  sky  presented  the  most  beautiful  appear- 
ance of  bright  stars,  and  the  morning  was  ushered  in  with  the  song  of 
many  little  birds." 


"  Aberdeen,  Jul? 

"  I  hope,  my  dear,  that  you  are  going  out  of  doors  regularly  and 
taking  much  exercise.  I  would  have  you  to  make  the  markets  daily 

—  and  by  all  means  to  take  a  seat  in  the  coach  once  or  twice  in  the 
week  and  see  what  is  going  on  in  town.    [The  family  were  at  the  sea- 
side.]   It  will  be  good  not  to  be  too  great  a  stranger  to  the  house.     It 
will  be  rather  painful  at  first,  but  as  it  is  to  be  done,  I  would  have  you 
not  to  be  too  strange  to  the  house  in  town. 

"Tell  the  boys  that  1  fell  in  with  a  soldier  —  his  name  is  Henderson 

—  who  was  twelve  years  with  Lord  Wellington  and  other  comman- 
ders.    He  returned  very  lately  with  only  eight-pence-half-penny  in  his 
pocket,  and  found  his  father  and  mother  both  in  life,  though  they  had 
never  heard  from  him,  nor  he  from  them.     He  carried  my  great-coat 
and  umbrella  a  few  miles." 

"  Fraserburgb,  July  zotb. 

"  Fraserburgh  is  the  same  dull  place  which  [Auntie]  Mary  and  Jean- 
nie  found  it.  As  I  am  travelling  along  the  coast  which  they  are  ac- 
quainted with,  you  had  better  cause  Robert  to  bring  down  the  map 
from  Edinburgh  ;  and  it  will  be  a  good  exercise  in  geography  for  the 

226 


DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

young  folks  to  trace  my  course.  I  hope  they  have  entered  upon 
the  writing.  The  library  will  afford  abundance  of  excellent  books, 
which  1  wish  you  would  employ  a  little.  I  hope  you  are  doing  me  the 
favour  to  go  much  out  with  the  boys,  which  will  do  you  much  good 
and  prevent  them  from  getting  so  very  much  overheated." 

[  To  the  Boys  —  Printed. } 

"  When  I  had  last  the  pleasure  of  writing  to  you,  your  dear  little 
brother  James  and  your  sweet  little  sister  Mary  were  still  with  us.  But 
it  has  pleased  God  to  remove  them  to  another  and  a  better  world,  and 
we  must  submit  to  the  will  of  Providence.  I  must,  however,  request 
of  you  to  think  sometimes  upon  them,  and  to  be  very  careful  not  to  do 
anything  that  will  displease  or  vex  your  mother.  It  is  therefore  proper 
that  you  do  not  roamp  [Scottish  indeed]  too  much  about,  and  that  you 
learn  your  lessons. 

"...  I  went  to  Fraserburgh  and  visited  Kinnaird  Head  Lighthouse, 
which  I  found  in  good  order.  All  this  time  I  travelled  upon  good 
roads,  and  paid  many  a  toll-man  by  the  way;  but  from  Fraserburgh  to 
Banff  there  is  no  toll-bars,  and  the  road  is  so  bad  that  I  had  to  walk  up 
and  down  many  a  hill,  and  for  want  of  bridges  the  horses  had  to  drag 
the  chaise  up  to  the  middle  of  the  wheels  in  water.  At  Banff  I  saw  a 
large  ship  of  300  tons  lying  on  the  sands  upon  her  beam-ends,  and  a 
wreck  for  want  of  a  good  harbour.  Captain  Wilson  —  to  whom  I  beg 
my  compliments  —  will  show  you  a  ship  of  300  tons.  At  the  towns 
of  Macduff,  Banff,  and  Portsoy,  many  of  the  houses  are  built  of  marble, 
and  the  rocks  on  this  part  of  the  coast  or  sea-side  are  marble.  But, 
my  dear  Boys,  unless  marble  be  polished  and  dressed,  it  is  a  very 
coarse-looking  stone,  and  has  no  more  beauty  than  common  rock.  As 
a  proof  of  this,  ask  the  favour  of  your  mother  to  take  you  to  Thomson's 
Marble  Works  in  South  Leith,  and  you  will  see  marble  in  all  its  stages, 
and  perhaps  you  may  there  find  Portsoy  marble  !  The  use  I  wish  to 
make  of  this  is  to  tell  you  that,  without  education,  a  man  is  just  like  a 
block  of  rough,  unpolished  marble.  Notice,  in  proof  of  this,  how  much 
Mr.  Neill  and  Mr.  M'Gregor  [the  tutor]  know,  and  observe  how  little  a 
man  knows  who  is  not  a  good  scholar.  On  my  way  to  Fochabers  I 
passed  through  many  thousand  acres  of  Fir  timber,  and  saw  many  deer 
running  in  these  woods." 

127 


A   FAMILY   OF   ENGINEERS 

[To  Mrs.  Stevenson.] 

"  Inverness,  July  2  is/. 

"  I  propose  going  to  church  in  the  afternoon,  and  as  1  have  break- 
fasted late,  I  shall  afterwards  take  a  walk,  and  dine  about  six  o'clock. 
I  do  not  know  who  is  the  clergyman  here,  but  I  shall  think  of  you  all. 
I  travelled  in  the  mail-coach  [from  Banff]  almost  alone.  While  it  was 
daylight  I  kept  the  top,  and  the  passing  along  a  country  I  had  never 
before  seen  was  a  considerable  amusement.  But,  my  dear,  you  are  all 
much  in  my  thoughts,  and  many  are  the  objects  which  recall  the  re- 
collection of  our  tender  and  engaging  children  we  have  so  recently  lost. 
We  must  not,  however,  repine.  I  could  not  for  a  moment  wish  any 
change  of  circumstances  in  their  case;  and  in  every  comparative  view 
of  their  state,  I  see  the  Lord's  goodness  in  removing  them  from  an  evil 
world  to  an  abode  of  bliss;  and  I  must  earnestly  hope  that  you  may  be 
enabled  to  take  such  a  view  of  this  affliction  as  to  live  in  the  happy 
prospect  of  our  all  meeting  again  to  part  no  more  —  and  that  under 
such  considerations  you  are  getting  up  your  spirits.  I  wish  you  would 
walk  about,  and  by  all  means  go  to  town,  and  do  not  sit  much  at 
home." 


"  Inverness,  July 
"  1  am  duly  favoured  with  your  much-valued  letter,  and  I  am  happy 
to  find  that  you  are  so  much  with  my  mother,  because  that  sort  of 
variety  has  a  tendency  to  occupy  the  mind,  and  to  keep  it  from  brood- 
ing too  much  upon  one  subject.  Sensibility  and  tenderness  are  cer- 
tainly two  of  the  most  interesting  and  pleasing  qualities  of  the  mind. 
These  qualities  are  also  none  of  the  least  of  the  many  endearingments 
of  the  female  character.  But  if  that  kind  of  sympathy  and  pleasing 
melancholy,  which  is  familiar  to  us  under  distress,  be  much  indulged, 
it  becomes  habitual,  and  takes  such  a  hold  of  the  mind  as  to  absorb  all 
the  other  affections,  and  unfit  us  for  the  duties  and  proper  enjoyments 
of  life.  Resignation  sinks  into  a  kind  of  peevish  discontent.  I  am  far, 
however,  from  thinking  there  is  the  least  danger  of  this  in  your  case, 
my  dear;  for  you  have  been  on  all  occasions  enabled  to  look  upon  the 
fortunes  of  this  life  as  under  the  direction  of  a  higher  power,  and  have 
always  preserved  that  propriety  and  consistency  of  conduct  in  all  cir- 
cumstances which  endears  your  example  to  your  family  in  particular, 

228 


DOMESTIC   ANNALS 

and  to  your  friends.  I  am  therefore,  my  dear,  for  you  to  go  out  much, 
and  to  go  to  the  house  up-stairs  [he  means  to  go  up-stairs  in  the  house, 
to  visit  the  place  of  the  dead  children],  and  to  put  yourself  in  the  way 
of  the  visits  of  your  friends.  1  wish  you  would  call  on  the  Miss  Grays, 
and  it  would  be  a  good  thing  upon  a  Saturday  to  dine  with  my  mo- 
ther, and  take  Meggy  and  all  the  family  with  you,  and  let  them  have 
their  strawberries  in  town.  The  tickets  of  one  of  the  old-fasbioned 
coaches  would  take  you  all  up,  and  if  the  evening  were  good,  they 
could  all  walk  down,  excepting  Meggy  and  little  David." 

"  Inverness,  July  z<-,tb,  1 1  p.m. 

"Captain  Wemyss,  of  Wemyss,  has  come  to  Inverness  to  go  the 
voyage  with  me,  and  as  we  are  sleeping  in  a  double-bedded  room,  I 
must  no  longer  transgress.  You  must  remember  me  the  best  way  you 
can  to  the  children." 

"On  board  oftbe  Ligbthouse  Yacht,  July  2$tb. 
"  I  got  to  Cromarty  yesterday  about  mid-day,  and  went  to  church. 
It  happened  to  be  the  sacrament  there,  and  I  heard  a  Mr.  Smith  at  that 
place  conclude  the  service  with  a  very  suitable  exhortation.  There 
seemed  a  great  concourse  of  people,  but  they  had  rather  an  unfortunate 
day  for  them  at  the  tent,  as  it  rained  a  good  deal.  After  drinking  tea 
at  the  inn,  Captain  Wemyss  accompanied  me  on  board,  and  we  sailed 
about  eight  last  night.  The  wind  at  present  being  rather  a  beating 
one,  I  think  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  standing  into  the  bay  of 
Wick,  and  leaving  this  letter  to  let  you  know  my  progress  and  that  I 
am  well." 

"Lighthouse  Yacht,  Stornoway,  August  4tb. 

"  To-day  we  had  prayers  on  deck  as  usual  when  at  sea.  I  read  the 
14th  chapter,  I  think,  of  Job.  Captain  Wemyss  has  been  in  the  habit 
of  doing  this  on  board  his  own  ship,  agreeably  to  the  Articles  of  War. 
Our  passage  round  the  Cape  [Cape  Wrath]  was  rather  a  cross  one,  and 
as  the  wind  was  northerly,  we  had  a  pretty  heavy  sea,  but  upon  the 
whole  have  made  a  good  passage,  leaving  many  vessels  behind  us  in 
Orkney.  I  am  quite  well,  my  dear;  and  Captain  Wemyss,  who  has 
much  spirit,  and  who  is  much  given  to  observation,  and  a  perfect  en- 

229 


A   FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

thusiast  in  his  profession,  enlivens  the  voyage  greatly.  Let  me  entreat 
you  to  move  about  much,  and  take  a  walk  with  the  boys  to  Leith.  I 
think  they  have  still  many  places  to  see  there,  and  I  wish  you  would 
indulge  them  in  this  respect.  Mr.  Scales  is  the  best  person  I  know  for 
showing  them  the  sailcloth-weaving,  etc.,  and  he  would  have  great 
pleasure  in  undertaking  this.  My  dear,  I  trust  soon  to  be  with  you, 
and  that  through  the  goodness  of  God  we  shall  meet  all  well. 

"  There  are  two  vessels  lying  here  with  emigrants  for  America,  each 
with  eighty  people  on  board,  at  all  ages,  from  a  few  days  to  upwards 
of  sixty !  Their  prospects  must  be  very  forlorn  to  go  with  a  slender 
purse  for  distant  and  unknown  countries." 

"Lighthouse  Yacbt,  off  Greenock,  Aug,  \8tb. 

"  It  was  after  cburcb-time  before  we  got  here,  but  we  had  prayers 
upon  deck  on  the  way  up  the  Clyde.  This  has,  upon  the  whole,  been 
a  very  good  voyage,  and  Captain  Wemyss,  who  enjoys  it  much,  has 
been  an  excellent  companion;  we  met  with  pleasure,  and  shall  part 
with  regret." 

Strange  that,  after  his  long  experience,  my  grand- 
father should  have  learned  so  little  of  the  attitude  and 
even  the  dialect  of  the  spiritually-minded;  that  after 
forty-four  years  in  a  most  religious  circle,  he  could  drop 
without  sense  of  incongruity  from  a  period  of  accepted 
phrases  to  "  trust  his  wife  was  getting  up  her  spirits/'  or 
think  to  reassure  her  as  to  the  character  of  Captain 
Wemyss  by  mentioning  that  he  had  read  prayers  on  the 
deck  of  his  frigate  "  agreeably  to  the  Articles  of  War  "! 
Yet  there  is  no  doubt  —  and  it  is  one  of  the  most  agree- 
able features  of  the  kindly  series  —  that  he  was  doing 
his  best  to  please,  and  there  is  little  doubt  that  he  suc- 
ceeded. Almost  all  my  grandfather's  private  letters 
have  been  destroyed.  This  correspondence  has  not 
only  been  preserved  entire,  but  stitched  up  in  the  same 
covers  with  the  works  of  the  godly  women,  the  Rever- 

230 


DOMESTIC  ANNALS 

end  John  Campbell,  and  the  painful  Mrs.  Ogle.  I  did 
not  think  to  mention  the  good  dame,  but  she  comes  in 
usefully  as  an  example.  Amongst  the  treasures  of  the 
ladies  of  my  family,  her  letters  have  been  honoured  with 
a  volume  to  themselves.  I  read  about  a  half  of  them 
myself;  then  handed  over  the  task  to  one  of  stauncher 
resolution,  with  orders  to  communicate  any  fact  that 
should  be  found  to  illuminate  these  pages.  Not  one 
was  found ;  it  was  her  only  art  to  communicate  by  post 
second-rate  sermons  at  second-hand;  and  such,  I  take 
it,  was  the  correspondence  in  which  my  grandmother 
delighted.  If  I  am  right,  that  of  Robert  Stevenson,  with 
his  quaint  smack  of  the  contemporary  Sandford  and 
Merton,  his  interest  in  the  whole  page  of  experience, 
his  perpetual  quest  and  fine  scent  of  all  that  seems  ro- 
mantic to  a  boy,  his  needless  pomp  of  language,  his  ex- 
cellent good  sense,  his  unfeigned,  unstained,  unwearied 
human  kindliness,  would  seem  to  her,  in  a  comparison, 
dry  and  trivial  and  worldly.  And  if  these  letters  were 
by  an  exception  cherished  and  preserved,  it  would  be 
for  one  or  both  of  two  reasons — because  they  dealt 
with  and  were  bitter-sweet  reminders  of  a  time  of  sor- 
row; or  because  she  was  pleased,  perhaps  touched,  by 
the  writer's  guileless  efforts  to  seem  spiritually-minded. 
After  this  date  there  were  two  more  births  and  two 
more  deaths,  so  that  the  number  of  the  family  remained 
unchanged ;  in  all  five  children  survived  to  reach  matur- 
ity and  to  outlive  their  parents. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

I 

IT  were  hard  to  imagine  a  contrast  more  sharply  de- 
fined than  that  between  the  lives  of  the  men  and  wo- 
men of  this  family:  the  one  so  chambered,  so  centred 
in  the  affections  and  the  sensibilities ;  the  other  so  ac- 
tive, healthy,  and  expeditious.  From  May  to  Novem- 
ber, Thomas  Smith  and  Robert  Stevenson  were  on  the 
mail,  in  the  saddle,  or  at  sea;  and  my  grandfather,  in 
particular,  seems  to  have  been  possessed  with  a  demon 
of  activity  in  travel.  In  1802,  by  direction  of  the 
Northern  Lighthouse  Board,  he  had  visited  the  coast  of 
England  from  St.  Bees,  in  Cumberland,  and  round  by 
the  Scilly  Islands  to  some  place  undecipherable  by  me; 
in  all  a  distance  of  2500  miles.  In  1806  I  find  him  start- 
ing "on  a  tour  round  the  South  Coast  of  England,  from 
the  Humber  to  the  Severn."  Peace  was  not  long  de- 
clared ere  he  found  means  to  visit  Holland,  where  he 
was  in  time  to  see,  in  the  navy-yard  at  Helvoetsluys, 
"about  twenty  of  Bonaparte's  English  flotilla  lying  in 
a  state  of  decay,  the  object  of  curiosity  to  Englishmen." 
By  1834  he  seems  to  have  been  acquainted  with  the 
coast  of  France  from  Dieppe  to  Bordeaux;  and  a  main 

232 


THE   SERVICE   OF  THE  NORTHERN    LIGHTS 

part  of  his  duty  as  Engineer  to  the  Board  of  Northern 
Lights  was  one  round  of  dangerous  and  laborious 
travel. 

In  1786,  when  Thomas  Smith  first  received  the  ap- 
pointment, the  extended  and  formidable  coast  of  Scot- 
land was  lighted  at  a  single  point  —  the  Isle  of  May,  in 
the  jaws  of  the  Firth  of  Forth,  where,  on  a  tower  al- 
ready a  hundred  and  fifty  years  old,  an  open  coal-fire 
blazed  in  an  iron  chauffer.  The  whole  archipelago, 
thus  nightly  plunged  in  darkness,  was  shunned  by  sea- 
going vessels,  and  the  favourite  courses  were  north 
about  Shetland  and  west  about  St.  Kilda.  When  the 
Board  met,  four  new  lights  formed  the  extent  of  their 
intentions  —  Kinnaird  Head  in  Aberdeenshire,  at  the 
eastern  elbow  of  the  coast;  North  Ronaldsay,  in  Ork- 
ney, to  keep  the  north  and  guide  ships  passing  to  the 
south'ard  of  Shetland;  Island  Glass,  on  Harris,  to  mark 
the  inner  shore  of  the  Hebrides  and  illuminate  the  navi- 
gation of  the  Minch;  and  the  Mull  of  Kintyre.  These 
works  were  to  be  attempted  against  obstacles,  material 
and  financial,  that  might  have  staggered  the  most  bold. 
Smith  had  no  ship  at  his  command  till  1791 ;  the  roads 
in  those  outlandish  quarters  where  his  business  lay  were 
scarce  passable  when  they  existed,  and  the  tower  on 
the  Mull  of  Kintyre  stood  eleven  months  unlighted 
while  the  apparatus  toiled  and  foundered  by  the  way 
among  rocks  and  mosses.  Not  only  had  towers  to  be 
built  and  apparatus  transplanted,  the  supply  of  oil  must 
be  maintained,  and  the  men  fed,  in  the  same  inaccessi- 
ble and  distant  scenes;  a  whole  service,  with  its  routine 
and  hierarchy,  had  to  be  called  out  of  nothing;  and  a 
new  trade  (that  of  lightkeeper)  to  be  taught,  recruited, 

233 


A  FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

and  organized.  The  funds  of  the  Board  were  at  the 
first  laughably  inadequate.  They  embarked  on  their 
career  on  a  loan  of  twelve  hundred  pounds,  and  their 
income  in  1789,  after  relief  by  a  fresh  Act  of  Parliament, 
amounted  to  less  than  three  hundred.  It  must  be  sup- 
posed that  the  thoughts  of  Thomas  Smith,  in  these  early 
years,  were  sometimes  coloured  with  despair;  and  since 
he  built  and  lighted  one  tower  after  another,  and  cre- 
ated and  bequeathed  to  his  successors  the  elements  of 
an  excellent  administration,  it  may  be  conceded  that  he 
was  not  after  all  an  unfortunate  choice  for  a  first  en- 
gineer. 

War  added  fresh  complications.  In  1794  Smith  came 
"very  near  to  be  taken"  by  a  French  squadron.  In 
1813  Robert  Stevenson  was  cruising  about  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Cape  Wrath  in  the  immediate  fear  of  Commo- 
dore Rogers.  The  men,  and  especially  the  sailors,  of 
the  Lighthouse  service  must  be  protected  by  a  medal 
and  ticket  from  the  brutal  activity  of  the  press-gang. 
And  the  zeal  of  volunteer  patriots  was  at  times  em- 
barrassing. 

"I  set  off  on  foot,"  writes  my  grandfather,  "for  Marazion,  a  town 
at  the  head  of  Mount's  Bay,  where  I  was  in  hopes  of  getting  a  boat 
to  freight.  I  had  just  got  that  length,  and  was  making  the  necessary 
inquiry,  when  a  young  man,  accompanied  by  several  idle-looking  fel- 
lows, came  up  to  me,  and  in  a  hasty  tone  said,  '  Sir,  in  the  king's  name 
I  seize  your  person  and  papers.'  To  which  I  replied  that  I  should  be 
glad  to  see  his  authority,  and  know  the  reason  of  an  address  so  abrupt. 
He  told  me  the  want  of  time  prevented  his  taking  regular  steps,  but 
that  it  would  be  necessary  for  me  to  return  to  Penzance,  as  I  was  sus- 
pected of  being  a  French  spy.  I  proposed  to  submit  my  papers  to  the 
nearest  Justice  of  Peace,  who  was  immediately  applied  to,  and  came  to 
the  inn  where  I  was.  He  seemed  to  be  greatly  agitated,  and  quite  at 

234 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

a  loss  how  to  proceed.  The  complaint  preferred  against  me  was  "  that 
I  had  examined  the  Longships  Lighthouse  with  the  most  minute  atten- 
tion, and  was  no  less  particular  in  my  inquiries  at  the  keepers  of  the 
lighthouse  regarding  the  sunk  rocks  lying  off  the  Land's  End,  with  the 
sets  of  the  currents  and  tides  along  the  coast:  that  I  seemed  particularly 
to  regret  the  situation  of  the  rocks  called  the  Seven  Stones,  and  the 
loss  of  a  beacon  which  the  Trinity  Board  had  caused  to  be  fixed  on  the 
Wolf  Rock;  that  I  had  taken  notes  of  the  bearings  of  several  sunk 
rocks,  and  a  drawing  of  the  lighthouse,  and  of  Cape  Cornwall.  Fur- 
ther, that  I  had  refused  the  honour  of  Lord  Edgecombe's  invitation  to 
dinner,  offering  as  an  apology  that  I  had  some  particular  business  on 
hand.'" 

My  grandfather  produced  in  answer  his  credentials 
and  letter  of  credit;  but  the  justice,  after  perusing  them, 
"  very  gravely  observed  that  they  were  '  musty  bits  of 
paper,'"  and  proposed  to  maintain  the  arrest.  Some 
more  enlightened  magistrates  at  Penzance  relieved  him 
of  suspicion  and  left  him  at  liberty  to  pursue  his  jour- 
ney,— "  which  I  did  with  so  much  eagerness,"  he  adds, 
"  that  I  gave  the  two  coal  lights  on  the  Lizard  only  a 
very  transient  look." 

Lighthouse  operations  in  Scotland  differed  essentially 
in  character  from  those  in  England.  The  English  coast 
is  in  comparison  a  habitable,  homely  place,  well  sup- 
plied with  towns;  the  Scottish  presents  hundreds  of 
miles  of  savage  islands  and  desolate  moors.  The  Par- 
liamentary committee  of  1834,  profoundly  ignorant  of 
this  distinction,  insisted  with  my  grandfather  that  the 
work  at  the  various  stations  should  be  let  out  on  con- 
tract "in  the  neighbourhood,"  where  sheep  and  deer, 
and  gulls  and  cormorants,  and  a  few  ragged  gillies,  per- 
haps crouching  in  a  bee-hive  house,  made  up  the  only 
neighbours.  In  such  situations  repairs  and  improve- 

235 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

ments  could  only  be  overtaken  by  collecting  (as  my 
grandfather  expressed  it)  a  few  "lads,"  placing  them 
under  charge  of  a  foreman,  and  despatching  them  about 
the  coast  as  occasion  served.  The  particular  danger  of 
these  seas  increased  the  difficulty.  The  course  of  the 
lighthouse  tender  lies  amid  iron-bound  coasts,  among 
tide-races,  the  whirlpools  of  the  Pentland  Firth,  flocks 
of  islands,  flocks  of  reefs,  many  of  them  uncharted. 
The  aid  of  steam  was  not  yet.  At  first  in  random 
coasting  sloop,  and  afterwards  in  the  cutter  belonging 
to  the  service,  the  engineer  must  ply  and  run  amongst 
these  multiplied  dangers,  and  sometimes  late  into  the 
stormy  autumn.  For  pages  together  my  grandfather's 
diary  preserves  a  record  of  these  rude  experiences;  of 
hard  winds  and  rough  seas;  and  of  "the  try-sail  and 
storm-jib,  those  old  friends  which  I  never  like  to  see." 
They  do  not  tempt  to  quotation,  but  it  was  the  man's 
element,  in  which  he  lived,  and  delighted  to  live,  and 
some  specimen  must  be  presented.  On  Friday,  Sept. 
loth,  1830,  the  Regent  lying  in  Lerwick  Bay,  we  have 
this  entry:  "The  gale  increases,  with  continued  rain." 
On  the  morrow,  Saturday,  I  ith,  the  weather  appeared 
to  moderate,  and  they  put  to  sea,  only  to  be  driven  by 
evening  into  Levenswick.  There  they  lay,  "rolling 
much,"  with  both  anchors  ahead  and  the  square  yard 
on  deck,  till  the  morning  of  Saturday,  i8th.  Saturday 
and  Sunday  they  were  plying  to  the  southward  with  a 
"  strong  breeze  and  a  heavy  sea,"  and  on  Sunday  even- 
ing anchored  in  Otterswick.  "  Monday,  2oth,  it  blows 
so  fresh  that  we  have  no  communication  with  the  shore. 
We  see  Mr.  Rome  on  the  beach,  but  we  cannot  com- 
municate with  him.  It  blows  '  mere  fire/  as  the  sailors 

236 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

express  it."  And  for  three  days  more  the  diary  goes  on 
with  tales  of  davits  unshipped,  high  seas,  strong  gales 
from  the  southward,  and  the  ship  driven  to  refuge  in 
Kirkwall  or  Deer  Sound.  I  have  many  a  passage  be- 
fore me  to  transcribe,  in  which  my  grandfather  draws 
himself  as  a  man  of  exactitude  about  minute  and  anx- 
ious details.  It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  these  voy- 
ages in  the  tender  were  the  particular  pleasure  and  re- 
ward of  his  existence ;  that  he  had  in  him  a  reserve  of 
romance  which  carried  him  delightedly  over  these  hard- 
ships and  perils;  that  to  him  it  was  "great  gain "  to  be 
eight  nights  and  seven  days  in  the  savage  bay  of  Lev- 
enswick  —  to  read  a  book  in  the  much  agitated  cabin  — 
to  go  on  deck  and  hear  the  gale  scream  in  his  ears,  and 
see  the  landscape  dark  with  rain,  and  the  ship  plunge 
at  her  two  anchors  —  and  to  turn  in  at  night  and  wake 
again  at  morning,  in  his  narrow  berth,  to  the  clamorous 
and  continued  voices  of  the  gale. 

His  perils  and  escapes  were  beyond  counting.  I 
shall  only  refer  to  two:  the  first,  because  of  the  impres- 
sion made  upon  himself;  the  second,  from  the  incidental 
picture  it  presents  of  the  north  islanders.  On  the  9th 
October  1794  he  took  passage  from  Orkney  in  the  sloop 
Elizabeth  of  Stromness.  She  made  a  fair  passage  till 
within  view  of  Kinnaird  Head,  where,  as  she  was  be- 
calmed some  three  miles  in  the  offing,  and  wind 
seemed  to  threaten  from  the  south-east,  the  captain 
landed  him,  to  continue  his  journey  more  expeditiously 
ashore.  A  gale  immediately  followed,  and  the  Eli^a- 
beth  was  driven  back  to  Orkney  and  lost  with  all  hands. 
The  second  escape  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  hearing 
related  by  an  eye-witness,  my  own  father,  from  the 

237 


A  FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

earliest  days  of  childhood.  On  a  September  night,  the 
Regent  lay  in  the  Pentland  Firth  in  a  fog  and  a  violent 
and  windless  swell.  It  was  still  dark,  when  they  were 
alarmed  by  the  sound  of  breakers,  and  an  anchor  was 
immediately  let  go.  The  peep  of  dawn  discovered 
them  swinging  in  desperate  proximity  to  the  Isle  of 
Swona1  and  the  surf  bursting  close  under  their  stern. 
There  was  in  this  place  a  hamlet  of  the  inhabitants, 
fisher-folk  and  wreckers;  their  huts  stood  close  about 
the  head  of  the  beach.  All  slept ;  the  doors  were  closed, 
and  there  was  no  smoke,  and  the  anxious  watchers  on 
board  ship  seemed  to  contemplate  a  village  of  the  dead. 
It  was  thought  possible  to  launch  a  boat  and  tow  the 
Regent  from  her  place  of  danger;  and  with  this  view  a 
signal  of  distress  was  made  and  a  gun  fired  with  a  red- 
hot  poker  from  the  galley.  Its  detonation  awoke  the 
sleepers.  Door  after  door  was  opened,  and  in  the  grey 
light  of  the  morning  fisher  after  fisher  was  seen  to  come 
forth,  yawning  and  stretching  himself,  nightcap  on 
head.  Fisher  after  fisher,  I  wrote,  and  my  pen  tripped ; 
for  it  should  rather  stand  wrecker  after  wrecker.  There 
was  no  emotion,  no  animation,  it  scarce  seemed  any  in- 
terest ;  not  a  hand  was  raised ;  but  all  callously  awaited 
the  harvest  of  the  sea,  and  their  children  stood  by  their 
side  and  waited  also.  To  the  end  of  his  life,  my  father 
remembered  that  amphitheatre  of  placid  spectators  on 
the  beach,  and  with  a  special  and  natural  animosity, 
the  boys  of  his  own  age.  But  presently  a  light  air 
sprang  up,  and  filled  the  sails,  and  fainted,  and  filled 

iThis  is  only  a  probable  hypothesis;  I  have  tried  to  identify  my 
father's  anecdote  in  my  grandfather's  diary,  and  may  very  well  have 
been  deceived. —  [R.  L.  S.] 

338 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

them  again;  and  little  by  little  the  Regent  fetched  way 
against  the  swell,  and  clawed  off  shore  into  the  turbu- 
lent firth. 

The  purpose  of  these  voyages  was  to  effect  a  landing 
on  open  beaches  or  among  shelving  rocks,  not  for  per- 
sons only,  but  for  coals  and  food,  and  the  fragile  furni- 
ture of  light-rooms.  It  was  often  impossible.  In  1831 
I  find  my  grandfather  "  hovering  for  a  week  "  about  the 
Pentland  Skerries  for  a  chance  to  land;  and  it  was 
almost  always  difficult.  Much  knack  and  enterprise 
were  early  developed  among  the  seamen  of  the  service ; 
their  management  of  boats  is  to  this  day  a  matter  of  ad- 
miration ;  and  I  find  my  grandfather  in  his  diary  depict- 
ing the  nature  of  their  excellence  in  one  happily  descrip- 
tive phrase,  when  he  remarks  that  Captain  Soutar  had 
landed  "the  small  stores  and  nine  casks  of  oil  with  all 
the  activity  of  a  smuggler."  And  it  was  one  thing  to 
land,  another  to  get  on  board  again.  I  have  here  a 
passage  from  the  diary,  where  it  seems  to  have  been 
touch-and-go.  "  I  landed  at  Tarbetness,  on  the  eastern 
side  of  1  he  point,  in  a  mere  gale  or  blast  of  wind  from 
west-south-west,  at  2  p.m.  It  blew  so  fr~sh  that  the 
captain,  in  a  kind  of  despair,  went  off  to  the  ship,  leav- 
ing myself  and  the  steward  ashore.  While  I  was  in  the 
light-room,  I  felt  it  shaking  and  waving,  not  with  the 
tremor  of  the  Bell  Rock,  but  with  the  waving  of  a  tree! 
This  the  lightkeepers  seemed  to  be  quite  familiar  to,  the 
principal  keeper  remarking  that  'it  was  very  pleasant,' 
perhaps  neaning  interesting  or  curious.  The  captain 
worked  the  vessel  into  smooth  water  with  admirable 
dexterity,  and  I  got  on  board  again  about  6  p.m.  from 
the  other  side  of  the  point."  But  not  even  the  dexterity 

239 


A  FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

of  Soutar  could  prevail  always;  and  my  grandfather 
must  at  times  have  been  left  in  strange  berths  and  with 
but  rude  provision.  I  may  instance  the  case  of  my  fa- 
ther, who  was  storm-bound  three  days  upon  an  islet, 
sleeping  in  the  uncemented  and  unchimneyed  houses 
of  the  islanders,  and  subsisting  on  a  diet  of  nettle-soup 
and  lobsters. 

The  name  of  Soutar  has  twice  escaped  my  pen,  and  I 
feel  I  owe  him  a  vignette.  Soutar  first  attracted  notice 
as  mate  of  a  praam  at  the  Bell  Rock,  and  rose  gradually 
to  be  captain  of  the  Regent.  He  was  active,  admirably 
skilled  in  his  trade,  and  a  man  incapable  of  fear.  Once, 
in  London,  he  fell  among  a  gang  of  confidence-men, 
naturally  deceived  by  his  rusticity  and  his  prodigious 
accent.  They  plied  him  with  drink, — a  hopeless  enter- 
prise, for  Soutar  could  not  be  made  drunk ;  they  pro- 
posed cards,  and  Soutar  would  not  play.  At  last,  one 
of  them,  regarding  him  with  a  formidable  countenance, 
inquired  if  he  were  not  frightened?  "I'm  no'  very 
easy  fleyed,"  replied  the  captain.  And  the  rooks  with- 
drew after  some  easier  pigeon.  So  many  perils  shared, 
and  the  partial  familiarity  of  so  many  voyages,  had  given 
this  man  a  stronghold  in  my  grandfather's  estimation ; 
and  there  is  no  doubt  but  he  had  the  art  to  court  and 
please  him  with  much  hypocritical  skill.  He  usually 
dined  on  Sundays  in  the  cabin.  He  used  to  come  down 
daily  after  dinner  for  a  glass  of  port  or  whisky,  often  in 
his  full  rig  of  sou'-wester,  oilskins,  and  long  boots;  and 
I  have  often  heard  it  described  how  insinuatingly  he 
carried  himself  on  these  appearances,  artfully  combining 
the  extreme  of  deference  with  a  blunt  and  seamanlike 
demeanour.  My  father  and  uncles,  with  the  devilish 

240 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

penetration  of  the  boy,  were  far  from  being  deceived; 
and  my  father,  indeed,  was  favoured  with  an  object- 
lesson  not  to  be  mistaken.  He  had  crept  one  rainy 
night  into  an  apple-barrel  on  deck,  and  from  this  place 
of  ambush  overheard  Soutar  and  a  comrade  conversing 
in  their  oilskins.  The  smooth  sycophant  of  the  cabin 
had  wholly  disappeared,  and  the  boy  listened  with 
wonder  to  a  vulgar  and  truculent  ruffian.  Of  Soutar,  I 
may  say  tantum  vidi,  having  met  him  in  the  Leith  docks 
now  more  than  thirty  years  ago,  when  he  abounded  in 
the  praises  of  my  grandfather,  encouraged  me  (in  the 
most  admirable  manner)  to  pursue  his  footprints,  and 
left  impressed  for  ever  on  my  memory  the  image  of  his 
own  Bardolphian  nose.  He  died  not  long  after. 

The  engineer  was  not  only  exposed  to  the  hazards 
of  the  sea ;  he  must  often  ford  his  way  by  land  to  re- 
mote and  scarce  accessible  places,  beyond  reach  of  the 
mail  or  the  post-chaise,  beyond  even  the  tracery  of  the 
bridle-path,  and  guided  by  natives  across  bog  and 
heather.  Up  to  1807  my  grandfather  seems  to  have 
travelled  much  on  horseback;  but  he  then  gave  up  the 
idea — "such,"  he  writes  with  characteristic  emphasis 
and  capital  letters,  "is  the  Plague  of  Baiting."  He  was 
a  good  pedestrian ;  at  the  age  of  fifty-eight  I  find  him 
covering  seventeen  miles  over  the  moors  of  the  Mackay 
country  in  less  than  seven  hours,  and  that  is  not  bad 
travelling  for  a  scramble.  The  piece  of  country  trav- 
ersed was  already  a  familiar  track,  being  that  between 
Loch  Eriboll  and  Cape  Wrath;  and  I  think  I  can  scarce 
do  better  than  reproduce  from  the  diary  some  traits  of 
his  first  visit.  The  tender  lay  in  Loch  Eriboll;  by  five 
in  the  morning  they  sat  down  to  breakfast  on  board; 

241 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

by  six  they  were  ashore  —  my  grandfather,  Mr.  Slight, 
an  assistant,  and  Soutar  of  the  jolly  nose,  and  had  been 
taken  in  charge  by  two  young  gentlemen  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood and  a  pair  of  gillies.  About  noon  they 
reached  the  Kyle  of  Durness  and  passed  the  ferry. 
By  half-past  three  they  were  at  Cape  Wrath  —  not  yet 
known  by  the  emphatic  abbreviation  of  "The  Cape," 
—  and  beheld  upon  all  sides  of  them  unfrequented 
shores,  an  expanse  of  desert  moor,  and  the  high-piled 
Western  Ocean.  The  site  of  the  tower  was  chosen. 
Perhaps  it  is  by  inheritance  of  blood,  but  I  know  few 
things  more  inspiriting  than  this  location  of  a  lighthouse 
in  a  designated  space  of  heather  and  air,  through  which 
the  sea-birds  are  still  flying.  By  9  p.m.  the  return 
journey  had  brought  them  again  to  the  shores  of  the 
Kyle.  The  night  was  dirty,  and  as  the  sea  was  high 
and  the  ferry-boat  small,  Soutar  and  Mr.  Stevenson 
were  left  on  the  far  side,  while  the  rest  of  the  party  em- 
barked and  were  received  into  the  darkness.  They 
made,  in  fact,  a  safe  though  an  alarming  passage;  but 
the  ferryman  refused  to  repeat  the  adventure;  and  my 
grandfather  and  the  captain  long  paced  the  beach,  im- 
patient for  their  turn  to  pass,  and  tormented  with  rising 
anxiety  as  to  the  fate  of  their  companions.  At  length 
they  sought  the  shelter  of  a  shepherd's  house.  "We 
had  miserable  up-putting,"  the  diary  continues,  "and 
on  both  sides  of  the  ferry  much  anxiety  of  mind.  Our 
beds  were  clean  straw,  and  but  for  the  circumstance  of 
the  boat,  1  should  have  slept  as  soundly  as  ever  I  did 
after  a  walk  through  moss  and  mire  of  sixteen  hours." 
To  go  round  the  lights,  even  to-day,  is  to  visit  past 
centuries.  The  tide  of  tourists  that  flows  yearly  in  Scot- 

342 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

land,  vulgarizing  all  where  it  approaches,  is  still  de- 
fined by  certain  barriers.  It  will  be  long  ere  there  is  a 
hotel  at  Sumburgh  or  a  hydropathic  at  Cape  Wrath;  it 
will  be  long  ere  any  char-a-banc,  laden  with  tourists, 
shall  drive  up  to  Barra  Head  or  Monach,  the  Island  of 
the  Monks.  They  are  farther  from  London  than  St. 
Petersburg,  and  except  for  the  towers,  sounding  and 
shining  all  night  with  fog-bells  and  the  radiance  of  the 
light-room,  glittering  by  day  with  the  trivial  brightness 
of  white  paint,  these  island  and  moorland  stations  seem 
inaccessible  to  the  civilization  of  to-day,  and  even  to 
the  end  of  my  grandfather's  career  the  isolation  was  far 
greater.  There  ran  no  post  at  all  in  the  Long  Island ; 
from  the  lighthouse  on  Barra  Head  a  boat  must  be  sent 
for  letters  as  far  as  Tobermory,  between  sixty  and 
seventy  miles  of  open  sea;  and  the  posts  of  Shetland, 
which  had  surprised  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  1814,  were  still 
unimproved  in  1833,  when  my  grandfather  reported  on 
the  subject.  The  group  contained  at  the  time  a  popu- 
lation of  30,000  souls,  and  enjoyed  a  trade  which  had 
increased  in  twenty  years  seven-fold,  to  between  three 
and  four  thousand  tons.  Yet  the  mails  were  despatched 
and  received  by  chance  coasting  vessels  at  the  rate  of  a 
penny  a  letter;  six  and  eight  weeks  often  elapsed  be- 
tween opportunities,  and  when  a  mail  was  to  be  made 
up,  sometimes  at  a  moment's  notice,  the  bellman  was 
sent  hastily  through  the  streets  of  Lerwick.  Between 
Shetland  and  Orkney,  only  seventy  miles  apart,  there 
was  "no  trade  communication  whatever." 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs,  only  sixty  years  ago, 
with  the  three  largest  clusters  of  the  Scottish  Archipela- 
go ;  and  forty-seven  years  earlier,  when  Thomas  Smith 

243 


A   FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

began  his  rounds,  or  forty-two,  when  Robert  Steven- 
son became  conjoined  with  him  in  these  excursions, 
the  barbarism  was  deep,  the  people  sunk  in  superstition, 
the  circumstances  of  their  life  perhaps  unique  in  history. 
Lerwick  and  Kirkwall,  like  Guam  or  the  Bay  of  Islands, 
were  but  barbarous  ports  where  whalers  called  to  take 
up  and  to  return  experienced  seamen.  On  the  outly- 
ing islands  the  clergy  lived  isolated,  thinking  other 
thoughts,  dwelling  in  a  different  country  from  their 
parishioners,  like  missionaries  in  the  South  Seas.  My 
grandfather's  unrivalled  treasury  of  anecdote  was  never 
written  down;  it  embellished  his  talk  while  he  yet  was, 
and  died  with  him  when  he  died;  and  such  as  have 
been  preserved  relate  principally  to  the  islands  of  Ronald- 
say  and  Sanday,  two  of  the  Orkney  group.  These  bor- 
dered on  one  of  the  water-highways  of  civilization ;  a 
great  fleet  passed  annually  in  their  view,  and  of  the  ship- 
wrecks of  the  world  they  were  the  scene  and  cause  of  a 
proportion  wholly  incommensurable  to  their  size.  In 
one  year,  1798,  my  grandfather  found  the  remains  of  no 
fewer  than  five  vessels  on  the  isle  of  Sanday,  which  is 
scarcely  twelve  miles  long. 

"  Hardly  a  year  passed,"  he  writes,  "  without  instances  of  this  kind; 
for,  owing  to  the  projecting  points  of  this  strangely  formed  island,  the 
lowness  and  whiteness  of  its  eastern  shores,  and  the  wonderful  manner 
in  which  the  scanty  patches  of  land  are  intersected  with  lakes  and  pools 
of  water,  it  becomes,  even  in  daylight,  a  deception,  and  has  often  been 
fatally  mistaken  for  an  open  sea.  It  had  even  become  proverbial  with 
some  of  the  inhabitants  to  observe  that  '  if  wrecks  were  to  happen, 
they  might  as  well  be  sent  to  the  poor  isle  of  Sanday  as  anywhere  else.' 
On  this  and  the  neighbouring  islands  the  inhabitants  have  certainly  had 
their  share  of  wrecked  goods,  for  the  eye  is  presented  with  these  melan- 
choly remains  in  almost  every  form.  For  example,  although  quarries 

244 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

are  to  be  met  with  generally  in  these  islands,  and  the  stones  are  very 
suitable  for  building  dykes  (Anglice,  walls),  yet  instances  occur  of  the 
land  being  enclosed,  even  to  a  considerable  extent,  with  ship-timbers. 
The  author  has  actually  seen  a  park  (Anglice>  meadow)  paled  round 
chiefly  with  cedar-wood  and  mahogany  from  the  wreck  of  a  Honduras- 
built  ship;  and  in  one  island,  after  the  wreck  of  a  ship  laden  with  wine, 
the  inhabitants  have  been  known  to  take  claret  to  their  barley-meal 
porridge.  On  complaining  to  one  of  the  pilots  of  the  badness  of  his 
boat's  sails,  he  replied  to  the  author  with  some  degree  of  pleasantry, 
'  Had  it  been  His  will  that  you  camena'  here  wi'  your  lights,  we 
might  'a'  had  better  sails  to  our  boats,  and  more  o'  other  things.1  It 
may  further  be  mentioned  that  when  some  of  Lord  Dundas's  farms  are 
to  be  let  in  these  islands  a  competition  takes  place  for  the  lease,  and  it 
is  bona  fide  understood  that  a  much  higher  rent  is  paid  than  the  lands 
would  otherwise  give  were  it  not  for  the  chance  of  making  considerably 
by  the  agency  and  advantages  attending  shipwrecks  on  the  shores  of 
the  respective  farms." 

The  people  of  North  Ronaldsay  still  spoke  Norse,  or, 
rather,  mixed  it  with  their  English.  The  walls  of  their 
huts  were  built  to  a  great  thickness  of  rounded  stones 
from  the  sea-beach ;  the  roof  flagged,  loaded  with  earth, 
and  perforated  by  a  single  hole  for  the  escape  of  smoke. 
The  grass  grew  beautifully  green  on  the  flat  house-top, 
where  the  family  would  assemble  with  their  dogs  and 
cats,  as  on  a  pastoral  lawn;  there  were  no  windows, 
and,  in  my  grandfather's  expression,  "  there  was  really 
no  demonstration  of  a  house  unless  it  were  the  diminu- 
tive door."  He  once  landed  on  Ronaldsay  with  two 
friends.  "The  inhabitants  crowded  and  pressed  so 
much  upon  the  strangers  that  the  bailiff,  or  resident  fac- 
tor of  the  island,  blew  with  his  ox-horn,  calling  out  to 
the  natives  to  stand  off  and  let  the  gentlemen  come  for- 
ward to  the  laird ;  upon  which  one  of  the  islanders,  as 
spokesman,  called  out,  '  God  ha'e  us,  man  1  thou  needsna 

245 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

mak'  sic  a  noise.  It's  no'  every  day  we  ha'e  three  hatted 
men  on  our  isle.' '  When  the  Surveyor  of  Taxes  came 
(for  the  first  time,  perhaps)  to  Sanday,  and  began  in  the 
King's  name  to  complain  of  the  unconscionable  swarms 
of  dogs,  and  to  menace  the  inhabitants  with  taxation, 
it  chanced  that  my  grandfather  and  his  friend,  Dr.  Pat- 
rick Neill,  were  received  by  an  old  lady  in  a  Ronaldsay 
hut.  Her  hut,  which  was  similar  to  the  model  de- 
scribed, stood  on  a  Ness,  or  point  of  land  jutting  into 
the  sea.  They  were  made  welcome  in  the  firelit  cellar, 
placed  "in  caxey  or  straw-worked  chairs,  after  the  Nor- 
wegian fashion,  with  arms,  and  a  canopy  overhead," 
and  given  milk  in  a  wooden  dish.  These  hospitalities 
attended  to,  the  old  lady  turned  at  once  to  Dr.  Neill, 
whom  she  took  for  the  Surveyor  of  Taxes.  "  Sir,"  said 
she,  "  gin  ye'll  tell  the  King  that  I  canna  keep  the  Ness 
free  o'  the  Bangers  (sheep)  without  twa  hun's,  and  twa 
guid  hun's  too,  he'll  pass  me  threa  the  tax  on  dugs." 

This  familiar  confidence,  these  traits  of  engaging  sim- 
plicity, are  characters  of  a  secluded  people.  Mankind 
—  and,  above  all,  islanders  —  come  very  swiftly  to  a 
bearing,  and  find  very  readily,  upon  one  convention  or 
another,  a  tolerable  corporate  life.  The  danger  is  to 
those  from  without,  who  have  not  grown  up  from 
childhood  in  the  islands,  but  appear  suddenly  in  that 
narrow  horizon,  life-sized  apparitions.  For  these  no 
bond  of  humanity  exists,  no  feeling  of  kinship  is  awak- 
ened by  their  peril;  they  will  assist  at  a  shipwreck,  like 
the  fisher-folk  of  Lunga,  as  spectators,  and  when  the 
fatal  scene  is  over,  and  the  beach  strewn  with  dead 
bodies,  they  will  fence  their  fields  with  mahogany,  and, 
after  a  decent  grace,  sup  claret  to  their  porridge.  It  is 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

not  wickedness:  it  is  scarce  evil;  it  is  only,  in  its  high- 
est power,  the  sense  of  isolation  and  the  wise  disinter- 
estedness of  feeble  and  poor  races.  Think  how  many 
viking  ships  had  sailed  by  these  islands  in  the  past, 
how  many  vikings  had  landed,  and  raised  turmoil,  and 
broken  up  the  barrows  of  the  dead,  and  carried  off  the 
wines  of  the  living;  and  blame  them,  if  you  are  able, 
for  that  belief  (which  may  be  called  one  of  the  parables 
of  the  devil's  gospel)  that  a  man  rescued  from  the  sea 
will  prove  the  bane  of  his  deliverer.  It  might  be 
thought  that  my  grandfather,  coming  there  unknown, 
and  upon  an  employment  so  hateful  to  the  inhabitants, 
must  have  run  the  hazard  of  his  life.  But  this  were  to 
misunderstand.  He  came  franked  by  the  laird  and  the 
clergyman;  he  was  the  King's  officer;  the  work  was 
"opened  with  prayer  by  the  Rev.  Walter  Trail,  minis- 
ter of  the  parish";  God  and  the  King  had  decided  it, 
and  the  people  of  these  pious  islands  bowed  their  heads. 
There  landed,  indeed,  in  North  Ronaldsay,  during  the 
last  decade  of  the  eighteenth  century,  a  traveller  whose 
life  seems  really  to  have  been  imperilled.  A  very  little 
man  of  a  swarthy  complexion,  he  came  ashore,  ex- 
hausted and  unshaved,  from  a  long  boat  passage,  and 
lay  down  to  sleep  in  the  home  of  the  parish  school- 
master. But  he  had  been  seen  landing.  The  inhabi- 
tants had  identified  him  for  a  Pict,  as,  by  some  singular 
confusion  of  name,  they  call  the  dark  and  dwarfish  abo- 
riginal people  of  the  land.  Immediately  the  obscure  fer- 
ment of  a  race-hatred,  grown  into  a  superstition,  began 
to  work  in  their  bosoms,  and  they  crowded  about  the 
house  and  the  room-door  with  fearful  whisperings. 
For  some  time  the  schoolmaster  held  them  at  bay,  and 

247 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

at  last  despatched  a  messenger  to  call  my  grandfather. 
He  came :  he  found  the  islanders  beside  themselves  at 
this  unwelcome  resurrection  of  the  dead  and  the  de- 
tested ;  he  was  shown,  as  adminicular  of  testimony,  the 
traveller's  uncouth  and  thick-soled  boots;  he  argued, 
and  finding  argument  unavailing,  consented  to  enter 
the  room  and  examine  with  his  own  eyes  the  sleeping 
Pict.  One  glance  was  sufficient:  the  man  was  now  a 
missionary,  but  he  had  been  before  that  an  Edinburgh 
shopkeeper  with  whom  my  grandfather  had  dealt.  He 
came  forth  again  with  this  report,  and  the  folk  of  the 
island,  wholly  relieved,  dispersed  to  their  own  houses. 
They  were  timid  as  sheep  and  ignorant  as  limpets;  that 
was  all.  But  the  Lord  deliver  us  from  the  tender  mer- 
cies of  a  frightened  flock ! 

I  will  give  two  more  instances  of  their  superstition. 
When  Sir  Walter  Scott  visited  the  Stones  of  Stennis, 
my  grandfather  put  in  his  pocket  a  hundred-foot  line, 
which  he  unfortunately  lost. 

"Some  years  afterwards,"  he  writes,  "one  of  my  assistants  on  a 
visit  to  the  Stones  of  Stennis  took  shelter  from  a  storm  in  a  cottage 
close  by  the  lake;  and  seeing  a  box-measuring-line  in  the  bole  or  sole 
of  the  cottage  window,  he  asked  the  woman  where  she  got  this  well- 
known  professional  appendage.  She  said  :  '  O  sir,  ane  of  the  bairns 
fand  it  lang  syne  at  the  Stanes ;  and  when  drawing  it  out  we  took 
fright,  and  thinking  it  had  belanged  to  the  fairies,  we  threw  it  into  the 
bole,  and  it  has  layen  there  ever  since.'" 

This  is  for  the  one ;  the  last  shall  be  a  sketch  by  the 
master  hand  of  Scott  himself:  — 

"At  the  village  of  Stromness,  on  the  Orkney  main  island,  called  Po- 
mona, lived,  in  1814,  an  aged  dame  called  Bessie  Millie,  who  helped 

248 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

out  her  subsistence  by  selling  favourable  winds  to  mariners.  He  was 
a  venturous  master  of  a  vessel  who  left  the  roadstead  of  Stromness 
without  paying  his  offering  to  propitiate  Bessie  Millie !  Her  fee  was 
extremely  moderate,  being  exactly  sixpence,  for  which  she  boiled  her 
kettle  and  gave  the  bark  the  advantage  of  her  prayers,  for  she  dis- 
claimed all  unlawful  acts.  The  wind  thus  petitioned  for  was  sure,  she 
said,  to  arrive,  though  occasionally  the  mariners  had  to  wait  some 
time  for  it.  The  woman's  dwelling  and  appearance  were  not  unbe- 
coming her  pretensions.  Her  house,  which  was  on  the  brow  of  the 
steep  hill  on  which  Stromness  is  founded,  was  only  accessible  by  a 
series  of  dirty  and  precipitous  lanes,  and  for  exposure  might  have  been 
the  abode  of  Eolus  himself,  in  whose  commodities  the  inhabitant  dealt. 
She  herself  was,  as  she  told  us,  nearly  one  hundred  years  old,  withered 
and  dried  up  like  a  mummy.  A  clay-coloured  kerchief,  folded  round 
her  neck,  corresponded  in  colour  to  her  corpse-like  complexion.  Two 
light  blue  eyes  that  gleamed  with  a  lustre  like  that  of  insanity,  an  ut- 
terance of  astonishing  rapidity,  a  nose  and  chin  that  almost  met  to- 
gether, and  a  ghastly  expression  of  cunning,  gave  her  the  effect  of 
Hecate.  Such  was  Bessie  Millie,  to  whom  the  mariners  paid  a  sort  of 
tribute  with  a  feeling  between  jest  and  earnest." 


FROM  about  the  beginning  of  the  century  up  to  1807 
Robert  Stevenson  was  in  partnership  with  Thomas 
Smith.  In  the  last-named  year  the  partnership  was 
dissolved;  Thomas  Smith  returning  to  his  business,  and 
my  grandfather  becoming  sole  engineer  to  the  Board 
of  Northern  Lights. 

I  must  try,  by  excerpts  from  his  diary  and  correspon- 
dence, to  convey  to  the  reader  some  idea  of  the  ardency 
and  thoroughness  with  which  he  threw  himself  into 
the  largest  and  least  of  his  multifarious  engagements  in 
this  service.  But  first  I  must  say  a  word  or  two  upon 
the  life  of  lightkeepers,  and  the  temptations  to  which 

249 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

they  are  more  particularly  exposed.  The  lightkeeper 
occupies  a  position  apart  among  men.  In  sea-towers 
the  complement  has  always  been  three  since  the  de- 
plorable business  in  the  Eddystone,  when  one  keeper 
died,  and  the  survivor,  signalling  in  vain  for  relief,  was 
compelled  to  live  for  days  with  the  dead  body.  These 
usually  pass  their  time  by  the  pleasant  human  expedient 
of  quarrelling;  and  sometimes,  I  am  assured,  not  one  of 
the  three  is  on  speaking  terms  with  any  other.  On 
shore  stations,  which  on  the  Scottish  coast  are  some- 
times hardly  less  isolated,  the  usual  number  is  two, 
a  principal  and  an  assistant.  The  principal  is  dissatis- 
fied with  the  assistant,  or  perhaps  the  assistant  keeps 
pigeons,  and  the  principal  wants  the  water  from  the 
roof.  Their  wives  and  families  are  with  them,  living 
cheek  by  jowl.  The  children  quarrel ;  Jockie  hits  Jimsie 
in  the  eye,  and  the  mothers  make  haste  to  mingle  in 
the  dissension.  Perhaps  there  is  trouble  about  a  broken 
dish ;  perhaps  Mrs.  Assistant  is  more  highly  born  than 
Mrs.  Principal  and  gives  herself  airs;  and  the  men  are 
drawn  in  and  the  servants  presently  follow.  "  Church 
privileges  have  been  denied  the  keeper's  and  the  assis- 
tant's servants,"  I  read  in  one  case,  and  the  eminently 
Scots  periphrasis  means  neither  more  nor  less  than  ex- 
communication, "on  account  of  the  discordant  and 
quarrelsome  state  of  the  families.  The  cause,  when  in- 
quired into,  proves  to  be  tittle-tattle  on  both  sides." 
The  tender  comes  round ;  the  foremen  and  artificers  go 
from  station  to  station;  the  gossip  flies  through  the 
whole  system  of  the  service,  and  the  stories,  disfigured 
and  exaggerated,  return  to  their  own  birthplace  with 
the  returning  tender.  The  English  Board  was  appar- 

250 


THE  SERVICE   OF  THE   NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

ently  shocked  by  the  picture  of  these  dissensions. 
"When  the  Trinity  House  can,"  I  find  my  grandfather 
writing  at  Beechy  Head,  in  1834,  "they  do  not  appoint 
two  keepers,  they  disagree  so  ill.  A  man  who  has  a 
family  is  assisted  by  his  family;  and  in  this  way,  to  my 
experience  and  present  observation,  the  business  is  very 
much  neglected.  One  keeper  is,  in  my  view,  a  bad 
system.  This  day's  visit  to  an  English  lighthouse  con- 
vinces me  of  this,  as  the  lightkeeper  was  walking  on  a 
staff  with  the  gout,  and  the  business  performed  by  one 
of  his  daughters,  a  girl  of  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  of 
age."  This  man  received  a  hundred  a  yearl  It  shows 
a  different  reading  of  human  nature,  perhaps  typical  of 
Scotland  and  England,  that  I  find  in  my  grandfather's 
diary  the  following  pregnant  entry:  "  The  lightheepers, 
agreeing  ill,  keep  one  another  to  tbeir  duty."  But  the 
Scottish  system  was  not  alone  founded  on  this  cynical 
opinion.  The  dignity  and  the  comfort  of  the  northern 
lightkeeper  were  both  attended  to.  He  had  a  uniform 
to  "raise  him  in  his  own  estimation,  and  in  that  of  his 
neighbour,  which  is  of  consequence  to  a  person  of  trust. 
The  keepers,"  my  grandfather  goes  on,  in  another  place, 
"  are  attended  to  in  all  the  detail  of  accommodation  in 
the  best  style  as  shipmasters;  and  this  is  believed  to 
have  a  sensible  effect  upon  their  conduct,  and  to  regu- 
late their  general  habits  as  members  of  society."  He 
notes,  with  the  same  dip  of  ink,  that  "  the  brasses  were 
not  clean,  and  the  persons  of  the  keepers  not  trig";  and 
thus  we  find  him  writing  to  a  culprit:  "  I  have  to  com- 
plain that  you  are  not  cleanly  in  your  person,  and  that 
your  manner  of  speech  is  ungentle,  and  rather  inclines  to 
rudeness.  You  must  therefore  take  a  different  view  of 

251 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

your  duties  as  a  lightkeeper."  A  high  ideal  for  the  ser- 
vice appears  in  these  expressions,  and  will  be  more 
amply  illustrated  further  on.  But  even  the  Scottish 
lightkeeper  was  frail.  During  the  unbroken  solitude  of 
the  winter  months,  when  inspection  is  scarce  possible, 
it  must  seem  a  vain  toil  to  polish  the  brass  hand-rail  of 
the  stair,  or  to  keep  an  unrewarded  vigil  in  the  light- 
room  ;  and  the  keepers  are  habitually  tempted  to  the  be- 
ginnings of  sloth,  and  must  unremittingly  resist.  He 
who  temporises  with  his  conscience  is  already  lost.  I 
must  tell  here  an  anecdote  that  illustrates  the  difficulties 
of  inspection.  In  the  days  of  my  uncle  David  and  my 
father  there  was  a  station  which  they  regarded  with 
jealousy.  The  two  engineers  compared  notes  and  were 
agreed.  The  tower  was  always  clean,  but  seemed  al- 
ways to  bear  traces  of  a  hasty  cleansing,  as  though  the 
keepers  had  been  suddenly  forewarned.  On  inquiry,  it 
proved  that  such  was  the  case,  and  that  a  wandering 
fiddler  was  the  unfailing  harbinger  of  the  engineer.  At 
last  my  father  was  storm-stayed  one  Sunday  in  a  port 
at  the  other  side  of  the  island.  The  visit  was  quite 
overdue,  and  as  he  walked  across  upon  the  Monday 
morning  he  promised  himself  that  he  should  at  last 
take  the  keepers  unprepared.  They  were  both  waiting 
for  him  in  uniform  at  the  gate;  the  fiddler  had  been 
there  on  Saturday! 

My  grandfather,  as  will  appear  from  the  following 
extracts,  was  much  a  martinet,  and  had  a  habit  of  ex- 
pressing himself  on  paper  with  an  almost  startling  em- 
phasis. Personally,  with  his  powerful  voice,  sanguine 
countenance,  and  eccentric  and  original  locutions,  he 

252 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

was  well  qualified  to  inspire  a  salutary  terror  in  the  ser- 
vice. 

"  I  find  that  the  keepers  have,  by  some  means  or  another,  got  into 
the  way  of  cleaning  too  much  with  rotten-stone  and  oil.  1  take  the 
principal  keeper  to  task  on  this  subject,  and  make  him  bring  a  clean 
towel  and  clean  one  of  the  brazen  frames,  which  leaves  the  towel  in  an 
odious  state.  This  towel  I  put  up  in  a  sheet  of  paper,  seal,  and  take 
with  me  to  confront  Mr.  Murdoch,  who  has  just  left  the  station." 
"This  letter" — a  stern  enumeration  of  complaints — "to  lie  a  week 
on  the  light-room  book-place,  and  to  be  put  in  the  Inspector's  hands 
when  he  comes  round."  "  It  is  the  most  painful  thing  that  can  occur 
for  me  to  have  a  correspondence  of  this  kind  with  any  of  the  keepers ; 
and  when  I  come  to  the  Lighthouse,  instead  of  having  the  satisfaction 
to  meet  them  with  approbation,  it  is  distressing  when  one  is  obliged  to 
put  on  a  most  angry  countenance  and  demeanour;  but  from  such  cul- 
pable negligence  as  you  have  shown  there  is  no  avoiding  it.  I  hold  it 
as  a  fixed  maxim  that,  when  a  man  or  a  family  put  on  a  slovenly  ap- 
pearance in  their  houses,  stairs,  and  lanterns,  I  always  find  their  re- 
flectors, burners,  windows,  and  light  in  general,  ill  attended  to;  and, 
therefore,  I  must  insist  on  cleanliness  throughout."  "  I  find  you  very 
deficient  in  the  duty  of  the  high  tower.  You  thus  place  your  appoint- 
ment as  Principal  Keeper  in  jeopardy;  and  I  think  it  necessary,  as  an 
old  servant  of  the  Board,  to  put  you  upon  your  guard  once  for  all  at 
this  time.  I  call  upon  you  to  recollect  what  was  formerly  and  is  now 
said  to  you.  The  state  of  the  backs  of  the  reflectors  at  the  high  tower 
was  disgraceful,  as  I  pointed  out  to  you  on  the  spot.  They  were  as 
if  spitten  upon,  and  greasy  finger-marks  upon  the  back  straps.  I  de- 
mand an  explanation  of  this  state  of  things."  "The  cause  of  the 
Commissioners  dismissing  you  is  expressed  in  the  minute;  and  it  must 
be  a  matter  of  regret  to  you  that  you  have  been  so  much  engaged  in 
smuggling,  and  also  that  the  Reports  relative  to  the  cleanliness  of  the 
Lighthouse,  upon  being  referred  to,  rather  added  to  their  unfavourable 
opinion."  "  I  do  not  go  into  the  dwelling-house,  but  severely  chide 
the  lightkeepers  for  the  disagreement  that  seems  to  subsist  among 
them."  "  The  families  of  the  two  lightkeepers  here  agree  very  ill. 
I  have  effected  a  reconciliation  for  the  present."  "Things  are  in  a 

25? 


A  FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

very  humdrum  state  here.  There  is  no  painting,  and  in  and  out 
of  doors  no  taste  or  tidiness  displayed.  Robert's  wife  greets  and 
M'Gregor's  scolds;  and  Robert  is  so  down-hearted  that  he  says  he  is  un- 
fit for  duty.  I  told  him  that  if  he  was  to  mind  wives'  quarrels,  and  to 
take  them  up,  the  only  way  was  for  him  and  M'Gregor  to  go  down  to 
the  point  like  Sir  G.  Grant  and  Lord  Somerset."  "  I  cannot  say  that  I 
have  experienced  a  more  unpleasant  meeting  than  that  of  the  light- 
house folks  this  morning,  or  ever  saw  a  stronger  example  of  unfeeling 

barbarity  than  the  conduct  which  the  s  exhibited.    These  two 

cold-hearted  persons,  not  contented  with  having  driven  the  daughter 
of  the  poor  nervous  woman  from  her  father's  house,  both  kept  pouncing 
at  her,  lest  she  should  forget  her  great  misfortune.  Write  me  of  their 
conduct.  Do  not  make  any  communication  of  the  state  of  these  fam- 
ilies at  Kinnaird  Head,  as  this  would  be  like  Tale-bearing." 

There  is  the  great  word  out.  Tales  and  Tale-bear- 
ing, always  with  the  emphatic  capitals,  run  continually 
in  his  correspondence.  I  will  give  but  two  instances :  — 

"  Write  to  [David  one  of  the  lightkeepersj  and  caution  him  to  be 
more  prudent  how  he  expresses  himself.  Let  him  attend  his  duty  to 
the  Lighthouse  and  his  family  concerns,  and  give  less  heed  to  Tale- 
bearers." "  I  have  not  your  last  letter  at  hand  to  quote  its  date;  but,  if 
I  recollect,  it  contains  some  kind  of  tales,  which  nonsense  I  wish  you 
would  lay  aside,  and  notice  only  the  concerns  of  your  family  and  the 
important  charge  committed  to  you." 

Apparently,  however,  my  grandfather  was  not  him- 
self inaccessible  to  the. Tale-bearer,  as  the  following  in- 
dicates :  — 

"  In  walking  along  with  Mr. ,  I  explain  to  him  that  I  should  be 

under  the  necessity  of  looking  more  closely  into  the  business  here  from 
his  conduct  at  Buddonness,  which  had  given  an  instance  of  weakness 
in  the  Moral  principle  which  had  staggered  my  opinion  of  him.  His 
answer  was,  '  That  will  be  with  regard  to  the  lass  ? '  I  told  him  I  was 
to  enter  no  farther  with  him  upon  the  subject."  "  Mr.  Miller  appears 

254 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN  LIGHTS 

to  be  master  and  man.  I  am  sorry  about  this  foolish  fellow.  Had  I 
known  his  train,  I  should  not,  as  I  did,  have  rather  forced  him  into  the 
service.  Upon  finding  the  windows  in  the  state  they  were,  I  turned 
upon  Mr.  Watt,  and  especially  upon  Mr.  Stewart.  The  latter  did  not 
appear  for  a  length  of  time  to  have  visited  the  light-room.  On  asking 
the  cause  —  did  Mr.  Watt  and  him  (sic)  disagree;  he  said  no;  but  he 
had  got  very  bad  usage  from  the  assistant,  '  who  was  a  very  obstrep- 
erous man.'  I  could  not  bring  Mr.  Watt  to  put  in  language  his  ob- 
jections to  Miller;  all  I  could  get  was  that,  he  being  your  friend,  and 
saying  he  was  unwell,  he  did  not  like  to  complain  or  to  push  the  man; 
that  the  man  seemed  to  have  no  liking  to  anything  like  work;  that  he 
was  unruly;  that,  being  an  educated  man,  he  despised  them.  I  was, 
however,  determined  to  have  out  of  these  unwilling  witnesses  the 
language  alluded  to.  I  fixed  upon  Mr.  Stewart  as  chief;  he  hedged. 
My  curiosity  increased,  and  I  urged.  Then  he  said,  '  What  would  I 

think,  just  exactly,  of  Mr.  Watt  being  called  an  Old  B ? '    You 

may  judge  of  my  surprise.  There  was  not  another  word  uttered. 
This  was  quite  enough,  as  coming  from  a  person  I  should  have  calcu- 
lated upon  quite  different  behaviour  from.  It  spoke  a  volume  of  the 
man's  mind  and  want  of  principle."  "  Object  to  the  keeper  keeping  a 
Bull-Terrier  dog  of  ferocious  appearance.  It  is  dangerous,  as  we  land 
at  all  times  of  the  night."  "  Have  only  to  complain  of  the  storehouse 
floor  being  spotted  with  oil.  Give  orders  for  this  being  instantly  rec- 
tified, so  that  on  my  return  to-morrow  1  may  see  things  in  good  order." 

"  The  furniture  of  both  houses  wants  much  rubbing.     Mrs.  's 

carpets  are  absurd  beyond  anything  I  have  seen.  I  want  her  to  turn 
the  fenders  up  with  the  bottom  to  the  fireplace:  the  carpets,  when  not 
likely  to  be  in  use,  folded  up  and  laid  as  a  hearthrug  partly  under  the 
fender." 

My  grandfather  was  king  in  the  service  to  his  finger- 
tips. All  should  go  in  his  way,  from  the  principal 
lightkeeper's  coat  to  the  assistant's  fender,  from  the 
gravel  in  the  garden-walks  to  the  bad  smell  in  the 
kitchen,  or  the  oil-spots  on  the  store-room  floor.  It 
might  be  thought  there  was  nothing  more  calculated  to 
awake  men's  resentment,  and  yet  his  rule  was  not  more 

255 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

thorough  than  it  was  beneficent.  His  thought  for  the 
keepers  was  continual,  and  it  did  not  end  with  their 
lives.  He  tried  to  manage  their  successions ;  he  thought 
no  pains  too  great  to  arrange  between  a  widow  and  a 
son  who  had  succeeded  his  father;  he  was  often  har- 
assed and  perplexed  by  tales  of  hardship;  and  I  find 
him  writing,  almost  in  despair,  of  their  improvident 
habits  and  the  destitution  that  awaited  their  families 
upon  a  death.  "  The  house  being  completely  furnished, 
they  come  into  possession  without  necessaries,  and  they 
go  out  NAKED.  The  insurance  seems  to  have  failed, 
and  what  next  is  to  be  tried  ?  "  While  they  lived  he 
wrote  behind  their  backs  to  arrange  for  the  education 
of  their  children,  or  to  get  them  other  situations  if  they 
seemed  unsuitable  for  the  Northern  Lights.  When  he 
was  at  a  lighthouse  on  a  Sunday  he  held  prayers  and 
heard  the  children  read.  When  a  keeper  was  sick,  he 
lent  him  his  horse  and  sent  him  mutton  and  brandy 
from  the  ship.  "  The  assistant's  wife  having  been  this 
morning  confined,  there  was  sent  ashore  a  bottle  of 
sherry  and  a  few  rusks  —  a  practice  which  I  have  al- 
ways observed  in  this  service,"  he  writes.  They  dwelt, 
many  of  them,  in  uninhabited  isles  or  desert  forelands, 
totally  cut  off  from  shops.  Many  of  them  were,  be- 
sides, fallen  into  a  rustic  dishabitude  of  life,  so  that  even 
when  they  visited  a  city  they  could  scarce  be  trusted 
with  their  own  affairs,  as  (for  example)  he  who  carried 
home  to  his  children,  thinking  they  were  oranges,  a  bag 
of  lemons.  And  my  grandfather  seems  to  have  acted, 
at  least  in  his  early  years,  as  a  kind  of  gratuitous  agent 
for  the  service.  Thus  I  find  him  writing  to  a  keeper  in 
1806,  when  his  mind  was  already  pre-occupied  with 

256 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

arrangements  for  the  Bell  Rock:  "  I  am  much  afraid  I 
stand  very  unfavourably  with  you  as  a  man  of  promise, 
as  I  was  to  send  several  things  of  which  I  believe  I  have 
more  than  once  got  the  memorandum.  All  I  can  say  is 
that  in  this  respect  you  are  not  singular.  This  makes 
me  no  better;  but  really  I  have  been  driven  about  be- 
yond all  example  in  my  past  experience,  and  have  been 
essentially  obliged  to  neglect  my  own  urgent  affairs." 
No  servant  of  the  Northern  Lights  came  to  Edinburgh 
but  he  was  entertained  at  Baxter's  Place  to  breakfast. 
There,  at  his  own  table,  my  grandfather  sat  down  de- 
lightedly with  his  broad-spoken,  homespun  officers. 
His  whole  relation  to  the  service  was,  in  fact,  patri- 
archal; and  I  believe  I  may  say  that  throughout  its 
ranks  he  was  adored.  I  have  spoken  with  many  who 
knew  him;  I  was  his  grandson,  and  their  words  may 
have  very  well  been  words  of  flattery ;  but  there  was 
one  thing  that  could  not  be  affected,  and  that  was  the 
look  and  light  that  came  into  their  faces  at  the  name  of 
Robert  Stevenson. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  century  the  foreman  builder 
was  a  young  man  of  the  name  of  George  Peebles,  a 
native  of  Anstruther.  My  grandfather  had  placed  in 
him  a  very  high  degree  of  confidence,  and  he  was  al- 
ready designated  to  be  foreman  at  the  Bell  Rock,  when, 
on  Christmas-day  1806,  on  his  way  home  from  Orkney, 
he  was  lost  in  the  schooner  Traveller.  The  tale  of  the  loss 
of  the  Traveller  is  almost  a  replica  of  that  of  the  Eli^a- 
betb  of  Stromness ;  like  the  Elizabeth  she  came  as  far  as 
Kinnaird  Head,  was  then  surprised  by  a  storm,  driven 
back  to  Orkney,  and  bilged  and  sank  on  the  island  of 
Flotta.  It  seems  it  was  about  the  dusk  of  the  day  when 

257 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

the  ship  struck,  and  many  of  the  crew  and  passengers 
were  drowned.  About  the  same  hour,  my  grandfather 
was  in  his  office  at  the  writing-table;  and  the  room  be- 
ginning to  darken,  he  laid  down  his  pen  and  fell  asleep. 
In  a  dream  he  saw  the  door  open  and  George  Peebles 
come  in,  "reeling  to  and  fro,  and  staggering  like  a 
drunken  man,"  with  water  streaming  from  his  head 
and  body  to  the  floor.  There  it  gathered  into  a  wave 
which,  sweeping  forward,  submerged  my  grandfather. 
Well,  no  matter  how  deep ;  versions  vary ;  and  at  last 
he  awoke,  and  behold  it  was  a  dream !  But  it  may  be 
conceived  how  profoundly  the  impression  was  written 
even  on  the  mind  of  a  man  averse  from  such  ideas, 
when  the  news  came  of  the  wreck  on  Flotta  and  the 
death  of  George. 

George's  vouchers  and  accounts  had  perished  with 
himself;  and  it  appeared  he  was  in  debt  to  the  Com- 
missioners. But  my  grandfather  wrote  to  Orkney 
twice,  collected  evidence  of  his  disbursements,  and 
proved  him  to  be  seventy  pounds  ahead.  With  this 
sum,  he  applied  to  George's  brothers,  and  had  it  ap- 
portioned between  their  mother  and  themselves.  He 
approached  the  Board  and  got  an  annuity  of  ^£5  be- 
stowed on  the  widow  Peebles;  and  we  find  him  writ- 
ing her  a  long  letter  of  explanation  and  advice,  and 
pressing  on  her  the  duty  of  making  a  will.  That  he 
should  thus  act  executor  was  no  singular  instance. 
But  besides  this  we  are  able  to  assist  at  some  of  the 
stages  of  a  rather  touching  experiment :  no  less  than  an 
attempt  to  secure  Charles  Peebles  heir  to  George's 
favour.  He  is  despatched,  under  the  character  of  "a 
fine  young  man  " ;  recommended  to  gentlemen  for  "  ad- 

258 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE   NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

vice,  as  he's  a  stranger  in  your  place,  and  indeed  to  this 
kind  of  charge,  this  being  his  first  outset  as  Foreman"; 
and  for  a  long  while  after,  the  letter-book,  in  the  midst 
of  that  thrilling  first  year  of  the  Bell  Rock,  is  encum- 
bered with  pages  of  instruction  and  encouragement. 
The  nature  of  a  bill,  and  the  precautions  that  are  to  be 
observed  about  discounting  it,  are  expounded  at  length 
and  with  clearness.  "You  are  not,  1  hope,  neglecting, 
Charles,  to  work  the  harbour  at  spring-tides;  and  see 
that  you  pay  the  greatest  attention  to  get  the  well  so  as 
to  supply  the  keeper  with  water,  for  he  is  a  very  help- 
less fellow,  and  so  unfond  of  hard  work  that  I  fear  he 
could  do  ill  to  keep  himself  in  water  by  going  to  the 
other  side  for  it." — "  With  regard  to  spirits,  Charles,  I 
see  very  little  occasion  for  it."  These  abrupt  apostro- 
phes sound  to  me  like  the  voice  of  an  awakened  con- 
science ;  but  they  would  seem  to  have  reverberated  in 
vain  in  the  ears  of  Charles.  There  was  trouble  in 
Pladda,  his  scene  of  operations ;  his  men  ran  away  from 
him,  there  was  at  least  a  talk  of  calling  in  the  Sheriff. 
"I  fear,"  writes  my  grandfather,  "you  have  been  too 
indulgent,  and  I  am  sorry  to  add  that  men  do  not  an- 
swer to  be  too  well  treated,  a  circumstance  which  I 
have  experienced,  and  which  you  will  learn  as  you  go 
on  in  business."  I  wonder,  was  not  Charles  Peebles 
himself  a  case  in  point  ?  Either  death,  at  least,  or  dis- 
appointment and  discharge,  must  have  ended  his  ser- 
vice in  the  Northern  Lights;  and  in  later  correspond- 
ence I  look  in  vain  for  any  mention  of  his  name  — 
Charles,  I  mean,  not  Peebles:  for  as  late  as  1839  my 
grandfather  is  patiently  writing  to  another  of  the  family : 
"I  am  sorry  you  took  the  trouble  of  applying  to  me 

259 


A   FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

about  your  son,  as  it  lies  quite  out  of  my  way  to  for- 
ward his  views  in  the  line  of  his  profession  as  a 
Draper." 

Ill 

A  professional  life  of  Robert  Stevenson  has  been  al- 
ready given  to  the  world  by  his  son  David,  and  to  that 
I  would  refer  those  interested  in  such  matters.  But  my 
own  design,  which  is  to  represent  the  man,  would  be 
very  ill  carried  out  if  I  suffered  myself  or  my  reader  to 
forget  that  he  was,  first  of  all  and  last  of  all,  an  engi- 
neer. His  chief  claim  to  the  style  of  a  mechanical  in- 
ventor is  on  account  of  the  Jib  or  Balance  Crane  of  the 
Bell  Rock,  which  are  beautiful  contrivances.  But  the 
great  merit  of  this  engineer  was  not  in  the  field  of  en- 
gines. He  was  above  all  things  a  projector  of  works 
in  the  face  of  nature,  and  a  modifier  of  nature  itself.  A 
road  to  be  made,  a  tower  to  be  built,  a  harbour  to  be 
constructed,  a  river  to  be  trained  and  guided  in  its 
channel  —  these  were  the  problems  with  which  his 
mind  was  continually  occupied ;  and  for  these  and  sim- 
ilar ends  he  travelled  the  world  for  more  than  half  a 
century,  like  an  artist,  note-book  in  hand. 

He  once  stood  and  looked  on  at  the  emptying  of  a 
certain  oil-tube;  he  did  so  watch  in  hand,  and  accu- 
rately timed  the  operation;  and  in  so  doing  offered 
the  perfect  type  of  his  profession.  The  fact  acquired 
might  never  be  of  use:  it  was  acquired:  another  link 
in  the  world's  huge  chain  of  processes  was  brought 
down  to  figures  and  placed  at  the  service  of  the  engi- 
neer. "The  very  term  mensuration  sounds  engineer- 

260 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

like,"  \  find  him  writing;  and  in  truth  what  the  engi- 
neer most  properly  deals  with  is  that  which  can  be 
measured,  weighed,  and  numbered.  The  time  of  any 
operation  in  hours  and  minutes,  its  cost  in  pounds, 
shillings,  and  pence,  the  strain  upon  a  given  point  in 
foot-pounds  —  these  are  his  conquests,  with  which  he 
must  continually  furnish  his  mind,  and  which,  after  he 
has  acquired  them,  he  must  continually  apply  and  exer- 
cise. They  must  be  not  only  entries  in  note-books,  to 
be  hurriedly  consulted;  in  the  actor's  phrase,  he  must 
be  stale  in  them ;  in  a  word  of  my  grandfather's,  they 
must  be  "  fixed  in  the  mind  like  the  ten  fingers  and  ten 
toes." 

These  are  the  certainties  of  the  engineer;  so  far  he 
finds  a  solid  footing  and  clear  views.  But  the  province 
of  formulas  and  constants  is  restricted.  Even  the  me- 
chanical engineer  comes  at  last  to  an  end  of  his  figures, 
and  must  stand  up,  a  practical  man,  face  to  face  with 
the  discrepancies  of  nature  and  the  hiatuses  of  theory. 
After  the  machine  is  finished,  and  the  steam  turned  on, 
the  next  is  to  drive  it;  and  experience  and  an  exquisite 
sympathy  must  teach  him  where  a  weight  should  be 
applied  or  a  nut  loosened.  With  the  civil  engineer, 
more  properly  so  called  (if  anything  can  be  proper  with 
this  awkward  coinage),  the  obligation  starts  with  the 
beginning.  He  is  always  the  practical  man.  The 
rains,  the  winds  and  the  waves,  the  complexity  and  the 
fitfulness  of  nature,  are  always  before  him.  He  has  to 
deal  with  the  unpredictable,  with  those  forces  (in  Smea- 
ton's  phrase)  that  "are  subject  to  no  calculation";  and 
still  he  must  predict,  still  calculate  them,  at  his  peril. 
His  work  is  not  yet  in  being,  and  he  must  foresee  its  in- 

261 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

fluence:  how  it  shall  deflect  the  tide,  exaggerate  the 
waves,  dam  back  the  rain-water,  or  attract  the  thunder- 
bolt. He  visits  a  piece  of  sea-board :  and  from  the  in- 
clination and  soil  of  the  beach,  from  the  weeds  and 
shell-fish,  from  the  configuration  of  the  coast  and  the 
depth  of  soundings  outside,  he  must  induce  what  mag- 
nitude of  waves  is  to  be  looked  for.  He  visits  a  river, 
its  summer  water  babbling  on  shallows;  and  he  must 
not  only  read,  in  a  thousand  indications,  the  measure 
of  winter  freshets,  but  be  able  to  predict  the  violence  of 
occasional  great  floods.  Nay,  and  more:  he  must  not 
only  consider  that  which  is,  but  that  which  may  be. 
Thus  I  find  my  grandfather  writing,  in  a  report  on  the 
North  Esk  Bridge:  "A  less  waterway  might  have  suf- 
ficed, but  the  -valleys  may  come  to  be  meliorated  by  drain- 
age. "  One  field  drained  after  another  through  all  that 
confluence  of  vales,  and  we  come  to  a  time  when  they 
shall  precipitate,  by  so  much  a  more  copious  and  tran- 
sient flood,  as  the  gush  of  the  flowing  drain-pipe  is  su- 
perior to  the  leakage  of  a  peat. 

It  is  plain  there  is  here  but  a  restricted  use  for  for- 
mulas. In  this  sort  of  practice,  the  engineer  has  need  of 
some  transcendental  sense.  Smeaton,  the  pioneer,  bade 
him  obey  his  "feelings";  my  father,  that  "power  of 
estimating  obscure  forces  which  supplies  a  coefficient 
of  its  own  to  every  rule."  The  rules  must  be  every- 
where indeed;  but  they  must  everywhere  be  modified 
by  this  transcendental  coefficient,  everywhere  bent  to 
the  impression  of  the  trained  eye  and  the  feelings  of 
the  engineer.  A  sentiment  of  physical  laws  and  of  the 
scale  of  nature,  which  shall  have  been  strong  in  the  be- 
ginning and  progressively  fortified  by  observation. 

262 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

must  be  his  guide  in  the  last  recourse.  I  had  the  most 
opportunity  to  observe  my  father.  He  would  pass 
hours  on  the  beach,  brooding  over  the  waves,  counting 
them,  noting  their  least  deflection,  noting  when  they 
broke.  On  Tweedside,  or  by  Lyne  or  Manor,  we  have 
spent  together  whole  afternoons;  to  me,  at  the  time, 
extremely  wearisome;  to  him,  as  I  am  now  sorry  to 
think,  bitterly  mortifying.  The  river  was  to  me  a  pretty 
and  various  spectacle;  I  could  not  see  —  I  could  not  be 
made  to  see  —  it  otherwise.  To  my  father  it  was  a 
chequer-board  of  lively  forces,  which  he  traced  from 
pool  to  shallow  with  minute  appreciation  and  enduring 
interest.  "That  bank  was  being  undercut,"  he  might 
s;ay;  "why?  Suppose  you  were  to  put  a  groin  out 
here,  would  not  the  filum  fluminis  be  cast  abruptly  off 
across  the  channel  ?  and  where  would  it  impinge  upon 
the  other  shore  ?  and  what  would  be  the  result  ?  Or 
suppose  you  were  to  blast  that  boulder,  what  would 
happen?  Follow  it  —  use  the  eyes  God  has  given  you 
—  can  you  not  see  that  a  great  deal  of  land  would  be 
reclaimed  upon  this  side?"  It  was  to  me  like  school 
in  holidays;  but  to  him,  until  I  had  worn  him  out  with 
my  invincible  triviality,  a  delight.  Thus  he  pored  over 
the  engineer's  voluminous  handy-book  of  nature;  thus 
must,  too,  have  pored  my  grandfather  and  uncles. 

But  it  is  of  the  essence  of  this  knowledge,  or  this 
knack  of  mind,  to  be  largely  incommunicable.  "It 
cannot  be  imparted  to  another,"  says  my  father.  The 
verbal  casting-net  is  thrown  in  vain  over  these  evanes- 
cent, inferential  relations.  Hence  the  insignificance  of 
much  engineering  literature.  So  far  as  the  science  can 
be  reduced  to  formulas  or  diagrams,  the  book  is  to  the 

263 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

point;  so  far  as  the  art  depends  on  intimate  study  of  the 
ways  of  nature,  the  author's  words  will  too  often  be 
found  vapid.  This  fact  —  that  engineering  looks  one 
way,  and  literature  another  —  was  what  my  grandfather 
overlooked.  All  his  life  long,  his  pen  was  in  his  hand, 
piling  up  a  treasury  of  knowledge,  preparing  himself 
against  all  possible  contingencies.  Scarce  anything  fell 
under  his  notice  but  he  perceived  in  it  some  relation  to 
his  work,  and  chronicled  it  in  the  pages  of  his  journal 
in  his  always  lucid,  but  sometimes  inexact  and  wordy, 
style.  The  Traveling  Diary  (so  he  called  it)  was  kept  in 
fascicles  of  ruled  paper,  which  were  at  last  bound  up, 
rudely  indexed,  and  put  by  for  future  reference.  Such 
volumes  as  have  reached  me  contain  a  surprising  med- 
ley: the  whole  details  of  his  employment  in  the  North- 
ern Lights  and  his  general  practice;  the  whole  biog- 
raphy of  an  enthusiastic  engineer.  Much  of  it  is  useful 
and  curious;  much  merely  otiose;  and  much  can  only 
be  described  as  an  attempt  to  impart  that  which  cannot 
be  imparted  in  words.  Of  such  are  his  repeated  and 
heroic  descriptions  of  reefs;  monuments  of  misdirected 
literary  energy,  which  leave  upon  the  mind  of  the  reader 
no  effect  but  that  of  a  multiplicity  of  words  and  the  sug- 
gested vignette  of  a  lusty  old  gentleman  scrambling 
among  tangle.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  he  came  to 
engineering  while  yet  it  was  in  the  egg  and  without  a 
library,  and  that  he  saw  the  bounds  of  that  profession 
widen  daily.  He  saw  iron  ships,  steamers,  and  the 
locomotive  engine,  introduced.  He  lived  to  travel  from 
Glasgow  to  Edinburgh  in  the  inside  of  a  forenoon,  and 
to  remember  that  he  himself  had  "often  been  twelve 
hours  upon  the  journey,  and  his  grandfather  (Lillie)  two 

264 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  NORTHERN   LIGHTS 

days  "!  The  profession  was  still  but  in  its  second  gen- 
eration, and  had  already  broken  down  the  barriers  of 
time  and  space.  Who  should  set  a  limit  to  its  future 
encroachments  ?  And  hence,  with  a  kind  of  sanguine 
pedantry,  he  pursued  his  design  of  "  keeping  up  with 
the  day  "  and  posting  himself  and  his  family  on  every 
mortal  subject.  Of  this  unpractical  idealism  we  shall 
meet  with  many  instances;  there  was  not  a  trade,  and 
scarce  an  accomplishment,  but  he  thought  it  should 
form  part  of  the  outfit  of  an  engineer;  and  not  content 
with  keeping  an  encyclopaedic  diary  himself,  he  would 
fain  have  set  all  his  sons  to  work  continuing  and  ex- 
tending it.  They  were  more  happily  inspired.  My 
father's  engineering  pocket-book  was  not  a  bulky  vol- 
ume; with  its  store  of  pregnant  notes  and  vital  for- 
mulas, it  served  him  through  life,  and  was  not  yet  filled 
when  he  came  to  die.  As  for  Robert  Stevenson  and  the 
Traveling  Diary,  I  should  be  ungrateful  to  complain,  for 
it  has  supplied  me  with  many  lively  traits  for  this  and 
subsequent  chapters;  but  I  must  still  remember  much 
of  the  period  of  my  study  there  as  a  sojourn  in  the  Val- 
ley of  the  Shadow. 

The  duty  of  the  engineer  is  twofold — to  design 
the  work,  and  to  see  the  work  done.  We  have  seen 
already  something  of  the  vociferous  thoroughness  of 
the  man,  upon  the  cleaning  of  lamps  and  the  polishing 
of  reflectors.  In  building,  in  road-making,  in  the  con- 
struction of  bridges,  in  every  detail  and  byway  of  his 
employments,  he  pursued  the  same  ideal.  Perfection 
(with  a  capital  P  and  violently  under-scored)  was  his 
design.  A  crack  for  a  penknife,  the  waste  of ' '  six-and- 
thirty  shillings,"  "the  loss  of  a  day  or  a  tide,"  in  each 

265 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

of  these  he  saw  and  was  revolted  by  the  finger  of  the 
sloven;  and  to  spirits  intense  as  his,  and  immersed  in 
vital  undertakings,  the  slovenly  is  the  dishonest,  and 
wasted  time  is  instantly  translated  into  lives  endangered. 
On  this  consistent  idealism  there  is  but  one  thing  that 
now  and  then  trenches  with  a  touch  of  incongruity, 
and  that  is  his  love  of  the  picturesque.  As  when  he 
laid  out  a  road  on  Hogarth's  line  of  beauty;  bade  a  fore- 
man be  careful,  in  quarrying,  not  "  to  disfigure  the  isl- 
and"; or  regretted  in  a  report  that  "the  great  stone, 
called  the  Devil  in  the  Hole,  was  blasted  or  broken 
down  to  make  road-metal,  and  for  other  purposes  of 
the  work." 


266 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

OFF  the  mouths  of  the  Tay  and  the  Forth,  thirteen 
miles  from  Fifeness,  eleven  from  Arbroath,  and  fourteen 
from  the  Red  Head  of  Angus,  lies  the  Inchcape  or  Bell 
Rock.  It  extends  to  a  length  of  about  fourteen  hun- 
dred feet,  but  the  part  of  it  discovered  at  low  water 
to  not  more  than  four  hundred  and  twenty-seven.  At 
a  little  more  than  half-flood  in  fine  weather  the  seam- 
less ocean  joins  over  the  reef,  and  at  high-water  springs 
it  is  buried  sixteen  feet.  As  the  tide  goes  down,  the 
higher  reaches  of  the  rock  are  seen  to  be  clothed  by 
Conferva  rupestris  as  by  a  sward  of  grass ;  upon  the 
more  exposed  edges,  where  the  currents  are  most  swift 
and  the  breach  of  the  sea  heaviest,  Baderlock  or  Hen- 
ware  flourishes;  and  the  great  Tangle  grows  at  the 
depth  of  several  fathoms  with  luxuriance.  Before  man 
arrived,  and  introduced  into  the  silence  of  the  sea  the 
smoke  and  clangour  of  a  blacksmith's  shop,  it  was  a 
favourite  resting-place  of  seals.  The  crab  and  lobster 
haunt  in  the  crevices;  and  limpets,  mussels,  and  the 
white  buckie  abound. 

According  to  tradition,  a  bell  had  been  once  hung 
upon  this  rock  by  an  abbot  of  Arbroath,1  "  and  being 

1  This  is,  of  course,  the  tradition  commemorated  by  Southey  in  his 
ballad  of  "  The  Inchcape  Bell."  Whether  true  or  not,  it  points  to  the 

a67 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

taken  down  by  a  sea-pirate,  a  year  thereafter  he  perished 
upon  the  same  rock,  with  ship  and  goods,  in  the  right- 
eous judgment  of  God."  From  the  days  of  the  abbot 
and  the  sea-pirate  no  man  had  set  foot  upon  the  Inch- 
cape,  save  fishers  from  the  neighbouring  coast,  or  per- 
haps—  for  a  moment,  before  the  surges  swallowed 
them  —  the  unfortunate  victims  of  shipwreck.  The 
fishers  approached  the  rock  with  an  extreme  timidity; 
but  their  harvest  appears  to  have  been  great,  and  the 
adventure  no  more  perilous  than  lucrative.  In  1800,  on 
the  occasion  of  my  grandfather's  first  landing,  and  dur- 
ing the  two  or  three  hours  which  the  ebb-tide  and  the 
smooth  water  allowed  them  to  pass  upon  its  shelves, 
his  crew  collected  upwards  of  two  hundredweight  of 
old  metal:  pieces  of  a  kedge  anchor  and  a  cabin  stove, 
crowbars,  a  hinge  and  lock  of  a  door,  a  ship's  marking- 
iron,  a  piece  of  a  ship's  caboose,  a  soldier's  bayonet,  a 
cannon  ball,  several  pieces  of  money,  a  shoe-buckle, 
and  the  like.  Such  were  the  spoils  of  the  Bell  Rock. 
But  the  number  of  vessels  actually  lost  upon  th  reef 
was  as  nothing  to  those  that  were  cast  away  in  fruit- 
less efforts  to  avoid  it.  Placed  right  in  the  fairway  of 
two  navigations,  and  one  of  these  the  entrance  to  the 
only  harbour  of  refuge  between  the  Downs  and  the 
Moray  Firth,  it  breathed  abroad  along  the  whole  coast 
an  atmosphere  of  terror  and  perplexity;  and  no  ship 

fact  that  from  the  infancy  of  Scottish  navigation  the  seafaring  mind  had 
been  fully  alive  to  the  perils  of  this  reef.  Repeated  attempts  had  been 
made  to  mark  the  place  with  beacons,  but  all  efforts  were  unavailing 
(one  such  beacon  having  been  carried  away  within  eight  days  of  its 
erection)  until  Robert  Stevenson  conceived  and  carried  out  the  idea  of 
the  stone  tower. 

a68 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

sailed  that  part  of  the  North  Sea  at  night,  but  what  the 
ears  of  those  on  board  would  be  strained  to  catch  the 
roaring  of  the  seas  on  the  Bell  Rock. 

From  1794  onward,  the  mind  of  my  grandfather  had 
been  exercised  with  the  idea  of  a  light  upon  this  formi- 
dable danger.  To  build  a  tower  on  a  sea  rock,  eleven 
miles  from  shore,  and  barely  uncovered  at  low  water 
of  neaps,  appeared  a  fascinating  enterprise.  It  was 
something  yet  unattempted,  unessayed;  and  even  now, 
after  it  has  been  lighted  for  more  than  eighty  years,  it 
is  still  an  exploit  that  has  never  been  repeated.1  My 
grandfather  was,  besides,  but  a  young  man,  of  an  ex- 
perience comparatively  restricted,  and  a  reputation  con- 
fined to  Scotland;  and  when  he  prepared  his  first 
models,  and  exhibited  them  in  Merchants'  Hall,  he  can 
hardly  be  acquitted  of  audacity.  John  Clerk  of  Eldin 
stood  his  friend  from  the  beginning,  kept  the  key  of  the 
model  room,  to  which  he  carried  "eminent  strangers," 
and  found  words  of  counsel  and  encouragement  beyond 
price.  "Mr.  Clerk  had  been  personally  known  to 
Smeaton,  and  used  occasionally  to  speak  of  him  to  me," 

i  The  particular  event  which  concentrated  Mr.  Stevenson's  attention 
on  the  problem  of  the  Bell  Rock  was  the  memorable  gale  of  December 
1709,  when,  among  many  other  vessels,  H.M.S.  York,  a  seventy-four 
gun  ship,  went  down  with  all  hands  on  board.  Shortly  after  this  dis- 
aster, Mr.  Stevenson  made  a  careful  survey,  and  prepared  his  models 
for  a  stone  tower,  the  idea  of  which  was  at  first  received  with  pretty 
general  scepticism.  Smeaton's  Eddystone  tower  could  not  be  cited  as 
affording  a  parallel,  for  there  the  rock  is  not  submerged  even  at  high- 
water,  while  the  problem  of  the  Bell  Rock  was  to  build  a  tower  of  ma- 
sonry on  a  sunken  reef  far  distant  from  land,  covered  at  every  tide  to  a 
depth  of  twelve  feet  or  more,  and  having  thirty-two  fathoms'  depth  of 
water  within  a  mile  of  its  eastern  edge. 

269 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

says  my  grandfather;  and  again:  "I  felt  regret  that  I 
had  not  the  opportunity  of  a  greater  range  of  practice 
to  fit  me  for  such  an  undertaking;  but  I  was  fortified  by 
an  expression  of  my  friend  Mr.  Clerk  in  one  of  our  con- 
versations. 'This  work,'  said  he,  'is  unique,  and  can 
be  little  forwarded  by  experience  of  ordinary  masonic 
operations.  In  this  case  Smeaton's  "Narrative"  must 
be  the  text-book,  and  energy  and  perseverance  the 
pratique." 

A  Bill  for  the  work  was  introduced  into  Parliament 
and  lost  in  the  Lords  in  1802-3.  John  Rennie  was 
afterwards,  at  my  grandfather's  suggestion,  called  in 
council,  with  the  style  of  chief  engineer.  The  precise 
meaning  attached  to  these  words  by  any  of  the  parties 
appears  irrecoverable.  Chief  engineer  should  have  full 
authority,  full  responsibility,  and  a  proper  share  of  the 
emoluments;  and  there  were  none  of  these  for  Rennie. 
I  find  in  an  appendix  a  paper  which  resumes  the  con- 
troversy on  this  subject;  and  it  will  be  enough  to  say 
here  that  Rennie  did  not  design  the  Bell  Rock,  that  he 
did  not  execute  it,  and  that  he  was  not  paid  for  it.1 

1  The  grounds  for  the  rejection  of  the  Bill  by  the  House  of  Lords  in 
1802-3  had  been  that  the  extent  of  coast  over  which  dues  were  pro- 
posed to  be  levied  would  be  too  great.  Before  going  to  Parliament 
again,  the  Board  of  Northern  Lights,  desiring  to  obtain  support  and 
corroboration  for  Mr.  Stevenson's  views,  consulted  first  Telford,  who 
was  unable  to  give  the  matter  his  attention,  and  then  (on  Stevenson's 
suggestion)  Rennie,  who  concurred  in  affirming  the  practicability  of  a 
stone  tower,  and  supported  the  Bill  when  it  came  again  before  Parlia- 
ment in  1806.  Rennie  was  afterwards  appointed  by  the  Commissioners 
as  advising  engineer,  whom  Stevenson  might  consult  in  cases  of  emer- 
gency. It  seems  certain  that  the  title  of  chief  engineer  had  in  this  in- 
stance no  more  meaning  than  the  above.  Rennie,  in  point  of  fact, 

270 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

From  so  much  of  the  correspondence  as  has  come  down 
to  me,  the  acquaintance  of  this  man,  eleven  years  his 
senior,  and  already  famous,  appears  to  have  been  both 
useful  and  agreeable  to  Robert  Stevenson.  It  is  amus- 
ing to  find  my  grandfather  seeking  high  and  low  for  a 
brace  of  pistols  which  his  colleague  had  lost  by  the  way 
between  Aberdeen  and  Edinburgh;  and  writing  to 
Messrs.  Dollond,  "I  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to 
trouble  Mr.  Rennie  with  this  order,  but  /  beg  you  -will 
see  to  get  two  minutes  of  him  as  he  passes  your  door  " —  a 
proposal  calculated  rather  from  the  latitude  of  Edinburgh 
than  from  London,  even  in  1807.  It  is  pretty,  too,  to 
observe  with  what  affectionate  regard  Smeaton  was 
held  in  mind  by  his  immediate  successors.  "  Poor  old 
fellow,"  writes  Rennie  to  Stevenson,  "I  hope  he  will 
now  and  then  take  a  peep  at  us,  and  inspire  you  with 
fortitude  and  courage  to  brave  all  difficulties  and  dangers 
to  accomplish  a  work  which  will,  if  successful,  immor- 
talize you  in  the  annals  of  fame."  The  style  might  be 
bettered,  but  the  sentiment  is  charming. 

proposed  certain  modifications  in  Stevenson's  plans,  which  the  latter 
did  not  accept;  nevertheless  Rennie  continued  to  take  a  kindly  interest 
in  the  work,  and  the  two  engineers  remained  in  friendly  correspondence 
during  its  progress.  The  official  view  taken  by  the  Board  as  to  the 
quarter  in  which  lay  both  the  merit  and  the  responsibility  of  the  work 
may  be  gathered  from  a  minute  of  the  Commissioners  at  their  first 
meeting  held  after  Stevenson  died;  in  which  they  record  their  regret 
"  at  the  death  of  this  zealous,  faithful,  and  able  officer,  to  whom  is  due 
the  honour  of  conceiving  and  executing  the  Bell  Rock  Lighthouse." 
The  matter  is  briefly  summed  up  in  the  Life  of  Robert  Stevenson  by 
his  son  David  Stevenson  (A.  &  C.  Black,  1878),  and  fully  discussed,  on 
the  basis  of  official  facts  and  figures,  by  the  same  writer  in  a  letter  to 
the  Civil  Engineers'  and  Architects'  Journal,  1862. 

371 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

Smeaton  was,  indeed,  the  patron  saint  of  the  Bell 
Rock.  Undeterred  by  the  sinister  fate  of  Winstanley, 
he  had  tackled  and  solved  the  problem  of  the  Eddy- 
stone;  but  his  solution  had  not  been  in  all  respects  per- 
fect. It  remained  for  my  grandfather  to  outdo  him  in 
daring,  by  applying  to  a  tidal  rock  those  principles 
which  had  been  already  justified  by  the  success  of  the 
Eddystone,  and  to  perfect  the  model  by  more  than  one 
exemplary  departure.  Smeaton  had  adopted  in  his 
floors  the  principle  of  the  arch;  each  therefore  exer- 
cised an  outward  thrust  upon  the  walls,  which  must  he 
met  and  combated  by  embedded  chains.  My  grandfa- 
ther's flooring-stones,  on  the  other  hand,  were  flat, 
made  part  of  the  outer  wall,  and  were  keyed  and  dove- 
tailed into  a  central  stone,  so  as  to  bind  the  work  to- 
gether and  be  positive  elements  of  strength.  In  1703 
Winstanley  still  thought  it  possible  to  erect  his  strange 
pagoda,  with  its  open  gallery,  its  florid  scrolls  and 
candlesticks :  like  a  rich  man's  folly  for  an  ornamental 
water  in  a  park.  Smeaton  followed;  then  Stevenson 
in  his  turn  corrected  such  flaws  as  were  left  in  Smea- 
ton's  design;  and  with  his  improvements,  it  is  not  too 
much  to  say  the  model  was  made  perfect.  Smeaton 
and  Stevenson  had  between  them  evolved  and  finished 
the  sea-tower.  No  subsequent  builder  has  departed  in 
anything  essential  from  the  principles  of  their  design.  It 
remains,  and  it  seems  to  us  as  though  it  must  remain  for 
ever,  an  ideal  attained.  Every  stone  in  the  building,  it  may 
interest  the  reader  to  know,  my  grandfather  had  himself 
cut  out  in  the  model;  and  the  manner  in  which  the  courses 
were  fitted,  joggled,  trenailed,  wedged,  and  the  bond 
broken,  is  intricate  as  a  puzzle  and  beautiful  by  ingenuity. 

272 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

In  1806  a  second  Bill  passed  both  Houses,  and  the 
preliminary  works  were  at  once  begun.  The  same 
year  the  Navy  had  taken  a  great  harvest  of  prizes  in  the 
North  Sea,  one  of  which,  a  Prussian  fishing  dogger, 
flat-bottomed  and  rounded  at  the  stem  and  stern,  was 
purchased  to  be  a  floating  lightship,  and  re-named  the 
Pharos.  By  July  1807  she  was  overhauled,  rigged  for 
her  new  purpose,  and  turned  into  the  lee  of  the  Isle  of 
May.  "It  was  proposed  that  the  whole  party  should 
meet  in  her  and  pass  the  night;  but  she  rolled  from  side 
to  side  in  so  extraordinary  a  manner  that  even  the  most 
sea-hardy  fled.  It  was  humorously  observed  of  this 
vessel  that  she  was  in  danger  of  making  a  round  turn 
and  appearing  with  her  keel  uppermost;  and  that  she 
would  even  turn  a  halfpenny  if  laid  upon  deck."  By 
two  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  1 5th  July  this  pur- 
gatorial vessel  was  moored  by  the  Bell  Rock. 

A  sloop  of  forty  tons  had  been  in  the  meantime  built 
at  Leith,  and  named  the  Smeaton  ;  by  the  7th  of  August 
my  grandfather  set  sail  in  her  — 

"  carrying  with  him  Mr.  Peter  Logan,  foreman  builder,  and  five  artifi- 
cers selected  from  their  having  been  somewhat  accustomed  to  the  sea, 
the  writer  being  aware  of  the  distressing  trial  which  the  floating  light 
would  necessarily  inflict  upon  landsmen  from  her  rolling  motion.  Here 
he  remained  till  the  loth,  and,  as  the  weather  was  favourable,  a  land- 
ing was  effected  daily,  when  the  workmen  were  employed  in  cutting 
the  large  seaweed  from  the  sites  of  the  lighthouse  and  beacon,  which 
were  respectively  traced  with  pickaxes  upon  the  rock.  In  the  mean- 
time the  crew  of  the  Smeaton  was  employed  in  laying  down  the  sev- 
eral sets  of  moorings  within  about  half  a  mile  of  the  rock  for  the  con- 
venience of  vessels.  The  artificers,  having,  fortunately,  experienced 
moderate  weather,  returned  to  the  workyard  of  Arbroath  with  a  good 
report  of  their  treatment  afloat;  when  their  comrades  ashore  began  to 

275 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

feel  some  anxiety  to  see  a  place  of  which  they  had  heard  so  much,  and 
to  change  the  constant  operations  with  the  iron  and  mallet  in  the  pro- 
cess of  hewing  for  an  occasional  tide's  work  on  the  rock,  which  they 
figured  to  themselves  as  a  state  of  comparative  ease  and  comfort." 

I  am  now  for  many  pages  to  let  my  grandfather  speak 
for  himself,  and  tell  in  his  own  words  the  story  of  his 
capital  achievement.  The  tall  quarto  of  533  pages  from 
which  the  following  narrative  has  been  dug  out  is  prac- 
tically unknown  to  the  general  reader,  yet  good  judges 
have  perceived  its  merit,  and  it  has  been  named  (with 
flattering  wit)  "The  Romance  of  Stone  and  Lime"  and 
"The  Robinson  Crusoe  of  Civil  Engineering."  The 
tower  was  but  four  years  in  the  building ;  it  took  Robert 
Stevenson,  in  the  midst  of  his  many  avocations,  no  less 
than  fourteen  to  prepare  the  Account.  The  title-page 
is  a  solid  piece  of  literature  of  upwards  of  a  hundred 
words;  the  table  of  contents  runs  to  thirteen  pages; 
and  the  dedication  (to  that  revered  monarch,  George 
IV.)  must  have  cost  him  no  little  study  and  correspond- 
ence. Walter  Scott  was  called  in  council,  and  offered 
one  miscorrection  which  still  blots  the  page.  In  spite 
of  all  this  pondering  ar.d  filing,  there  remain  pages 
not  easy  to  construe,  and  inconsistencies  not  easy  to 
explain  away.  I  have  sought  to  make  these  disappear, 
and  to  lighten  a  little  the  baggage  with  which  my 
grandfather  marches;  here  and  there  I  have  rejointed 
and  rearranged  a  sentence,  always  with  his  own  words, 
and  all  with  a  reverent  and  faithful  hand;  and  I  offer  here 
to  the  reader  the  true  monument  of  Robert  Stevenson 
with  a  little  of  the  moss  removed  from  the  inscription, 
and  the  Portrait  of  the  artist  with  some  superfluous 
canvas  cut  away. 

274 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 


OPERATIONS  OF  1807 

Everything  being  arranged  for  sailing  to  the  rock  on  Saturday  the  I8°7 
1 5th,  the  vessel  might  have  proceeded  on  the  Sunday  ;  but  understand-  i6th  Au 
ing  that  this  would  not  be  so  agreeable  to  the  artificers  it  was  deferred 
until  Monday.  Here  we  cannot  help  observing  that  the  men  allotted 
for  the  operations  at  the  rock  seemed  to  enter  upon  the  undertaking 
with  a  degree  of  consideration  which  fully  marked  their  opinion  as  to 
the  hazardous  nature  of  the  undertaking  on  which  they  were  about  to 
enter.  They  went  in  a  body  to  church  on  Sunday,  and  whether  it 
was  in  the  ordinary  course,  or  designed  for  the  occasion,  the  writer  is 
not  certain,  but  the  service  was,  in  many  respects,  suitable  to  their  cir- 
cumstances. 

The  tide  happening  to  fall  late  in  the  evening  of  Monday  the  1 7th, 
the  party,  counting  twenty-four  in  number,  embarked  on  board  of  the 
Smeaton  about  ten  o'clock  p.m.,  and  sailed  from  Arbroath  with  a 
gentle  breeze  at  west.  Our  ship's  colours  having  been  flying  all  day 
in  compliment  to  the  commencement  of  the  work,  the  other  vessels 
in  the  harbour  also  saluted,  which  made  a  very  gay  appearance.  A 
number  of  the  friends  and  acquaintances  of  those  on  board  having 
been  thus  collected,  the  piers,  though  at  a  late  hour,  were  perfectly 
crowded,  and  just  as  the  Smeaton  cleared  the  harbour,  all  on  board 
united  in  giving  three  hearty  cheers,  which  were  returned  by  those  on 
shore  in  such  good  earnest,  that,  in  the  still  of  the  evening,  the  sound 
must  have  been  heard  in  all  parts  of  the  town,  re-echoing  from  the 
walls  and  lofty  turrets  of  the  venerable  Abbey  of  Aberbrothwick.  The 
writer  felt  much  satisfaction  at  the  manner  of  this  parting  scene,  though 
he  must  own  that  the  present  rejoicing  was,  on  his  part,  mingled  with 
occasional  reflections  upon  the  responsibility  of  his  situation,  which  ex- 
tended to  the  safety  of  all  who  should  be  engaged  in  this  perilous 
work.  With  such  sensations  he  retired  to  his  cabin ;  but  as  the  artifi- 
cers were  rather  inclined  to  move  about  the  deck  than  to  remain  in 
their  confined  berths  below,  his  repose  was  transient,  and  the  vessel 
being  small  every  motion  was  necessarily  heard.  Some  who  were 
musically  inclined  occasionally  sung  ;  but  he  listened  with  peculiar 

275 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 
'807      pleasure  to  the  sailor  at  the  helm,  who  hummed  over  Dibdin's  charao 

Mo»day,          .     . 

iyth  AUJ.  terist-.c  air  :  — 

"  They  say  there  's  a  Providence  sits  up  aloft, 
To  keep  watch  for  the  life  of  poor  Jack." 

Tn«day,  The  weather  had  been  very  gentle  all  night,  and,  about  four  in  the 
mornjng  Of  the  ,8th,  the  Smeaton  anchored.  Agreeably  to  an  ar- 
ranged plan  of  operations,  all  hands  were  called  at  five  o'clock  a.m., 
just  as  the  highest  part  of  the  Bell  Rock  began  to  show  its  sable  head 
among  the  light  breakers,  which  occasionally  whitened  with  the  foam- 
ing sea.  The  two  boats  belonging  to  the  floating  light  attended  the 
Smeaton,  to  carry  the  artificers  to  the  rock,  as  her  boat  could  only  ac- 
commodate about  six  or  eight  sitters.  Every  one  was  more  eager  than 
his  neighbour  to  leap  into  the  boats,  and  it  required  a  good  deal  of 
management  on  the  part  of  the  coxswains  to  get  men  unaccustomed 
to  a  boat  to  take  their  places  for  rowing  and  at  the  same  time  trimming 
her  properly.  The  landing-master  and  foreman  went  into  one  boat, 
while  the  writer  took  charge  of  another,  and  steered  it  to  and  from  the 
rock.  This  became  the  more  necessary  in  the  early  stages  of  the  work, 
as  places  could  not  be  spared  for  more  than  two,  or  at  most  three,  sea- 
men to  each  boat,  who  were  always  stationed,  one  at  the  bow,  to  use 
the  boat-hook  in  fending  or  pushing  off,  and  the  other  at  the  aftermost 
oar,  to  give  the  proper  time  in  rowing,  while  the  middle  oars  were 
double-banked,  and  rowed  by  the  artificers. 

As  the  weather  was  extremely  fine,  with  light  airs  of  wind  from  the 
east,  we  landed  without  difficulty  upon  the  central  part  of  the  rock  at 
half-past  five,  but  the  water  had  not  yet  sufficiently  left  it  for  com- 
mencing the  work.  This  interval,  however,  did  not  pass  unoccupied. 
The  first  and  last  of  all  the  principal  operations  at  the  Bell  Rock  were 
accompanied  by  three  hearty  cheers  from  all  hands,  and,  on  occasions 
like  the  present,  the  steward  of  the  ship  attended,  when  each  man  was 
regaled  with  a  glass  of  rum.  As  the  water  left  the  rock  about  six, 
some  began  to  bore  the  holes  for  the  great  bats  or  holdfasts,  for  fixing 
the  beams  of  the  Beacon-house,  while  the  smith  was  fully  attended  in 
laying  out  the  site  of  his  forge,  upon  a  somewhat  sheltered  spot  of  the 
rock,  which  also  recommended  itself  from  the  vicinity  of  a  pool  of 
water  for  tempering  his  irons.  These  preliminary  steps  occupied  about 

276 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

an  hour,  and  as  nothing  further  could  be  done  during  this  tide  towards  '8°7 
fixing  the  forge,  the  workmen  gratified  their  curiosity  by  roaming  about 
the  rock,  which  they  investigated  with  great  eagerness  till  the  tide 
overflowed  it.  Those  who  had  been  sick  picked  dulse  (Fucus  pal- 
matus),  which  they  ate  with  much  seeming  appetite;  others  were  more 
intent  upon  collecting  limpets  for  bait,  to  enjoy  the  amusement  offish- 
ing  when  they  returned  on  board  of  the  vessel.  Indeed,  none  came 
away  empty-handed,  as  everything  found  upon  the  Bell  Rock  was 
considered  valuable,  being  connected  with  some  interesting  association. 
Several  coins,  and  numerous  bits  of  shipwrecked  iron,  were  picked  up, 
of  almost  every  description;  and,  in  particular,  a  marking-iron  lettered 
JAMES  —  a  circumstance  of  which  it  was  thought  proper  to  give  notice 
to  the  public,  as  it  might  lead  to  the  knowledge  of  some  unfortunate 
shipwreck,  perhaps  unheard  of  till  this  simple  occurrence  led  to  the  dis- 
covery. When  the  rock  began  to  be  overflowed,  the  landing-master 
arranged  the  crews  of  the  respective  boats,  appointing  twelve  persons 
to  each.  According  to  a  rule  which  the  writer  had  laid  down  to  him- 
self, he  was  always  the  last  person  who  left  the  rock. 

In  a  short  time  the  Bell  Rock  was  laid  completely  under  water,  and 
the  weather  being  extremely  fine,  the  sea  was  so  smooth  that  its  place 
could  not  be  pointed  out  from  the  appearance  of  the  surface  —  a  cir- 
cumstance which  sufficiently  demonstrates  the  dangerous  nature  of  this 
rock,  even  during  the  day,  and  in  the  smoothest  and  calmest  state  of 
the  sea.  During  the  interval  between  the  morning  and  the  evening 
tides,  the  artificers  were  variously  employed  in  fishing  and  reading; 
others  were  busy  in  drying  and  adjusting  their  wet  clothes,  and  one  or 
two  amused  their  companions  with  the  violin  and  German  flute. 

About  seven  in  the  evening  the  signal  bell  for  landing  on  the  rock 
was  again  rung,  when  every  man  was  at  his  quarters.  In  this  service 
it  was  thought  more  appropriate  to  use  the  bell  than  to  pipe  to  quar- 
ters, as  the  use  of  this  instrument  is  less  known  to  the  mechanic  than 
the  sound  of  the  bell.  The  landing,  as  in  the  morning,  was  at  the 
eastern  harbour.  During  this  tide  the  seaweed  was  pretty  well  cleared 
from  the  site  of  the  operations,  and  also  from  the  tracks  leading  to  the 
different  landing-places;  for  walking  upon  the  rugged  surface  of  the 
Bell  Rock,  when  covered  with  seaweed,  was  found  to  be  extremely 
difficult,  and  even  dangerous.  Every  hand  that  could  possibly  be  oc- 
cupied was  now  employed  in  assisting  the  smith  to  fit  up  the  apparatus 

277 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'*>?  for  his  forge.  At  9  p.m.  the  boats  returned  to  the  tender,  after  other 
two  hours'  work,  in  the  same  order  as  formerly  —  perhaps  as  much 
gratified  with  the  success  that  attended  the  work  of  this  day  as  with 
any  other  in  the  whole  course  of  the  operations.  Although  it  could  not 
be  said  that  the  fatigues  of  this  day  had  been  great,  yet  all  on  board 
retired  early  to  rest.  The  sea  being  calm,  and  no  movement  on  deck, 
it  was  pretty  generally  remarked  in  the  morning  that  the  bell  awakened 
the  greater  number  on  board  from  their  first  sleep;  and  though  this  ob- 
servation was  not  altogether  applicable  to  the  writer  himself,  yet  he 
was  not  a  little  pleased  to  find  that  thirty  people  could  all  at  once  be- 
come so  reconciled  to  a  night's  quarters  within  a  few  hundred  paces  of 
the  Bell  Rock. 

w*dne«day,  Being  extremely  anxious  at  this  time  to  get  forward  with  fixing  the 
I9t  Au*'  smith's  forge,  on  which  the  progress  of  the  work  at  present  depended, 
the  writer  requested  that  he  might  be  called  at  daybreak  to  learn  the 
landing-master's  opinion  of  the  weather  from  the  appearance  of  the 
rising  sun,  a  criterion  by  which  experienced  seamen  can  generally  judge 
pretty  accurately  of  the  state  of  the  weather  for  the  following  day. 
About  five  o'clock,  on  coming  upon  deck,  the  sun's  upper  limb  or  disc 
had  just  begun  to  appear  as  if  rising  from  the  ocean,  and  in  less  than  a 
minute  he  was  seen  in  the  fullest  splendour;  but  after  a  short  interval 
he  was  enveloped  in  a  soft  cloudy  sky,  which  was  considered  emblem- 
atical of  fine  weather.  His  rays  had  not  yet  sufficiently  dispelled  the 
clouds  which  hid  the  land  from  view,  and  the  Bell  Rock  being  still 
overflowed,  the  whole  was  one  expanse  of  water.  This  scene  in  itself 
was  highly  gratifying;  and,  when  the  morning  bell  was  tolled,  we  were 
gratified  with  the  happy  forebodings  of  good  weather  and  the  expecta- 
tion of  having  both  a  morning  and  an  evening  tide's  work  on  the  rock. 
The  boat  which  the  writer  steered  happened  to  be  the  last  which  ap- 
proached the  rock  at  this  tide  ;  and,  in  standing  up  in  the  stern,  while 
at  some  distance,  to  see  how  the  leading  boat  entered  the  creek,  he 
was  astonished  to  observe  something  in  the  form  of  a  human  figure,  in 
a  reclining  posture,  upon  one  of  the  ledges  of  the  rock.  He  immedi- 
ately steered  the  boat  through  a  narrow  entrance  to  the  eastern  har- 
bour, with  a  thousand  unpleasant  sensations  in  his  mind.  He  thought  a 
vessel  or  boat  must  have  been  wrecked  upon  the  rock  during  the  night ; 
and  it  seemed  probable  that  the  rock  might  be  strewed  with  dead 
bodies,  a  spectacle  which  could  not  fail  to  deter  the  artificers  from  re- 

278 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL   ROCK 

turning  so  freely  to  their  work.  In  the  midst  of  these  reveries  the  1807 
boat  took  the  ground  at  an  improper  landing-place,  but,  without  wait- 
ing to  push  her  off,  he  leapt  upon  the  rock,  and  making  his  way  hastily 
to  the  spot  which  had  privately  given  him  alarm,  he  had  the  satisfac- 
tion to  ascertain  that  he  had  only  been  deceived  by  the  peculiar  situa- 
tion and  aspect  of  the  smith's  anvil  and  block,  which  very  completely 
represented  the  appearance  of  a  lifeless  body  upon  the  rock.  The 
writer  carefully  suppressed  his  feelings,  the  simple  mention  of  which 
might  have  had  a  bad  effect  upon  the  artificers,  and  his  haste  passed 
for  an  anxiety  to  examine  the  apparatus  of  the  smith's  forge,  left  in  an 
unfinished  state  at  evening  tide. 

In  the  course  of  this  morning's  work  two  or  three  apparently  dis- 
tant peals  of  thunder  were  heard,  and  the  atmosphere  suddenly  be- 
came thick  and  foggy.  But  as  the  Smeaton,  our  present  tender,  was 
moored  at  no  great  distance  from  the  rock,  the  crew  on  board  continued 
blowing  with  a  horn,  and  occasionally  fired  a  musket,  so  that  the 
boats  got  to  the  ship  without  difficulty. 

The  wind  this  morning  inclined  from  the  north-east,  and  the  sky  Thursday, 
had  a  heavy  and  cloudy  appearance,  but  the  sea  was  smooth,  though  "**  Aufc 
there  was  an  undulating  motion  on  the  surface,  which  indicated  easterly 
winds,  and  occasioned  a  slight  surf  upon  the  rock.  But  the  boats 
found  no  difficulty  in  landing  at  the  western  creek  at  half-past  seven, 
and,  after  a  good  tide's  work,  left  it  again  about  a  quarter  from  eleven. 
In  the  evening  the  artificers  landed  at  half-past  seven,  and  continued 
till  half-past  eight,  having  completed  the  fixing  of  the  smith's  forge,  his 
vice,  and  a  wooden  board  or  bench,  which  were  also  batted  to  a  ledge 
of  the  rock,  to  the  great  joy  of  all,  under  a  salute  of  three  hearty 
cheers.  From  an  oversight  on  the  part  of  the  smith,  who  had  neg- 
lected to  bring  his  tinder-box  and  matches  from  the  vessel,  the  work 
was  prevented  from  being  continued  for  at  least  an  hour  longer. 

The  smith's  shop  was,  of  course,  in  open  space  :  the  large  bellows 
were  carried  to  and  from  the  rock  every  tide,  for  the  serviceable  con- 
dition of  which,  together  with  the  tinder-box,  fuel,  and  embers  of  the 
former  fire,  the  smith  was  held  responsible.  Those  who  have  been 
placed  in  situations  to  feel  the  inconveniency  and  want  of  this  useful 
artisan,  will  be  able  to  appreciate  his  value  in  a  case  like  the  present. 
It  often  happened,  to  our  annoyance  and  disappointment,  in  the  early 
state  of  the  work,  when  the  smith  was  in  the  middle  of  a  favourite 

279 


A   FAMILY  OF   ENGINEERS 

1807  beat  in  making  some  useful  article,  or  in  sharpening  the  tools,  after  the 
flood-tide  had  obliged  the  pickmen  to  strike  work,  a  sea  would  come 
rolling  over  the  rocks,  dash  out  the  fire,  and  endanger  his  indispensable 
implement,  the  bellows.  If  the  sea  was  smooth,  while  the  smith  often 
stood  at  work  knee-deep  in  water,  the  tide  rose  by  imperceptible  de- 
grees, first  cooling  the  exterior  of  the  fireplace,  or  hearth,  and  then 
quietly  blackening  and  extinguishing  the  fire  from  below.  The  writer 
has  frequently  been  amused  at  the  perplexing  anxiety  of  the  blacksmith 
when  coaxing  his  fire  and  endeavouring  to  avert  the  effects  of  the  rising 
tide. 

Friday,  Everything  connected  with  the  forge  being  now  completed,  the  arti- 
'  ficers  found  no  want  of  sharp  tools,  and  the  work  went  forward  with 
great  alacrity  and  spirit.  It  was  also  alleged  that  the  rock  had  a  more 
habitable  appearance  from  the  volumes  of  smoke  which  ascended  from 
the  smith's  shop  and  the  busy  noise  of  his  anvil,  the  operations  of  the 
masons,  the  movements  of  the  boats,  and  shipping  at  a  distance  —  all 
contributed  to  give  life  and  activity  to  the  scene.  This  noise  and  traffic 
had,  however,  the  effect  of  almost  completely  banishing  the  herd  of 
seals  which  had  hitherto  frequented  the  rock  as  a  resting-place  during 
the  period  of  low  water.  The  rock  seemed  to  be  peculiarly  adapted  to 
their  habits,  for,  excepting  two  or  three  days  at  neap-tides,  a  part  of  it 
always  dries  at  low  water  —  at  least,  during  the  summer  season —  and 
as  there  was  good  fishing-ground  in  the  neighbourhood,  without  a 
human  being  to  disturb  or  molest  them,  it  had  become  a  very  favourite 
residence  of  these  amphibious  animals,  the  writer  having  occasionally 
counted  from  fifty  to  sixty  playing  about  the  rock  at  a  time.  But  when 
they  came  to  be  disturbed  every  tide,  and  their  seclusion  was  broken  in 
upon  by  the  [kindling  of  great  fires,  together  with  the  beating  of  ham- 
mers and  picks  during  low  water,  after  hovering  about  for  a  time,  they 
changed  their  place,  and  seldom  more  than  one  or  two  were  to  be  seen 
about  the  rock  upon  the  more  detached  outlayers  which  dry  partially, 
whence  they  seemed  to  look  with  that  sort  of  curiosity  which  is  ob- 
servable in  these  animals  when  following  a  boat. 

siturd»y,       Hitherto  the  artificers  had  remained  on  board  of  the  Smeaton,  which 
"n      n*'  was  made  fast  to  one  of  the  mooring  buoys  at  a  distance  only  of  about 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  rock,  and,  of  course,  a  very  great  conve- 
niency  to  the  work.     Being  so  near,  the  seamen  could  never  be  mis- 
taken as  to  the  progress  of  the  tide,  or  state  of  the  sea  upon  the  rock, 

280 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

nor  could  the  boats  be  much  at  a  loss  to  pull  on  board  of  the  vessel  »*°7 
during  fog,  or  even  in  very  rough  weather ;  as  she  could  be  cast  loose 
from  her  moorings  at  pleasure,  and  brought  to  the  lee  side  of  the  rock. 
But  the  Smeaton  being  only  about  forty  register  tons,  her  accommoda- 
tions were  extremely  limited.  It  may,  therefore,  be  easily  imagined 
that  an  addition  of  twenty-four  persons  to  her  own  crew  must  have 
rendered  the  situation  of  those  on  board  rather  uncomfortable.  The 
only  place  for  the  men's  hammocks  on  board  being  in  the  hold,  they 
were  unavoidably  much  crowded;  and  if  the  weather  had  required  the 
hatches  to  be  fastened  down,  so  great  a  number  of  men  could  not  possi- 
bly have  been  accommodated.  To  add  to  this  evil,  the  co-boose  or  cook- 
ing-place being  upon  deck,  it  would  not  have  been  possible  to  have 
cooked  for  so  large  a  company  in  the  event  of  bad  weather. 

The  stock  of  water  was  now  getting  short,  and  some  necessaries  be- 
ing also  wanted  for  the  floating  light,  the  Smeaton  was  despatched  for 
Arbroath;  and  the  writer,  with  the  artificers,  at  the  same  time  shifted 
their  quarters  from  her  to  the  floating  light. 

Although  the  rock  barely  made  its  appearance  at  this  period  of  the 
tides  till  eight  o'clock,  yet,  having  now  a  full  mile  to  row  from  the 
floating  light  to  the  rock,  instead  of  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the 
moorings  of  the  Smeaton,  it  was  necessary  to  be  earlier  astir,  and  to 
form  different  arrangements;  breakfast  was  accordingly  seived  up  at 
seven  o'clock  this  morning.  From  the  excessive  motion  of  the  floating 
light,  the  writer  had  looked  forward  rather  with  anxiety  to  the  removal 
of  the  workmen  to  this  ship.  Some  among  them,  who  had  been  con- 
gratulating themselves  upon  having  become  sea-hardy  while  on  board 
of  the  Smeaton,  had  a  complete  relapse  on  returning  to  the  floating 
light.  This  was  the  case  with  the  writer.  From  the  spacious  and  con- 
venient berthage  of  the  floating  light,  the  exchange  to  the  artificers 
was,  in  this  respect,  much  for  the  better.  The  boats  were  also  com- 
modious, measuring  sixteen  feet  in  length  on  the  keel,  so  that,  in  fine 
weather,  their  complement  of  sitters  was  sixteen  persons  for  each,  with 
which,  however,  they  were  rather  crowded,  but  she  could  not  stow  two 
boats  of  larger  dimensions.  When  there  was  what  is  called  a  breeze 
of  wind,  and  a  swell  in  the  sea,  the  proper  number  for  each  boat  could 
not,  with  propriety,  be  rated  at  more  than  twelve  persons. 

When  the  tide-bell  rung  the  boats  were  hoisted  out,  and  two  active 
seamen  were  employed  to  keep  them  from  receiving  damage  alongside. 

281 


A   FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

'807  The  floating  light  being  very  buoyant,  was  so  quick  in  her  motions 
that  when  those  who  were  about  to  step  from  her  gunwale  into  a 
boat,  placed  themselves  upon  a  cleat  or  step  on  the  ship's  side,  with 
the  man  or  rail  ropes  in  their  hands,  they  had  often  to  wait  for  some 
time  till  a  favourable  opportunity  occurred  for  stepping  into  the  boat. 
While  in  this  situation,  with  the  vessel  rolling  from  side  to  side,  watch- 
ing the  proper  time  for  letting  go  the  man-ropes,  it  required  the  great- 
est dexterity  and  presence  of  mind  to  leap  into  the  boats.  One  who 
was  rather  awkward  would  often  wait  a  considerable  period  in  this 
position:  at  one  time  his  side  of  the  ship  would  be  so  depressed  that  he 
would  touch  the  boat  to  which  he  belonged,  while  the  next  sea  would 
elevate  him  so  much  that  he  would  see  his  comrades  in  the  boat  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  ship,  his  friends  in  the  one  boat  calling  to  him  to 
"Jump,"  while  those  in  the  boat  on  the  other  side,  as  he  came  again 
and  again  into  their  view,  would  jocosely  say  "  Are  you  there  yet? 
You  seem  to  enjoy  a  swing."  In  this  situation  it  was  common  to  see 
a  person  upon  each  side  of  the  ship  for  a  length  of  time,  waiting  to 
quit  his  hold. 

On  leaving  the  rock  to-day  a  trial  of  seamanship  was  proposed 
amongst  the  rowers,  for  by  this  time  the  artificers  had  become  tolerably 
expert  in  this  exercise.  By  inadvertency  some  of  the  oars  provided  had 
been  made  of  fir  instead  of  ash,  and  although  a  considerable  stock  had 
been  laid  in,  the  workmen,  being  at  first  awkward  in  the  art,  were 
constantly  breaking  their  oars;  indeed  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  to 
see  the  broken  blades  of  a  pair  of  oars  floating  astern,  in  the  course  of 
a  passage  from  the  rock  to  the  vessel.  The  men,  upon  the  whole,  had 
but  little  work  to  perform  in  the  course  of  a  day;  for  though  they  ex- 
erted themselves  extremely  hard  while  on  the  rock,  yet,  in  the  early 
state  of  the  operations,  this  could  not  be  continued  for  more  than 
three  or  four  hours  at  a  time,  and  as  their  rations  were  large  —  consist- 
ing of  one  pound  and  a  half  of  beef,  one  pound  of  ship  biscuit,  eight 
ounces  oatmeal,  two  ounces  barley,  two  ounces  butter,  three  quarts  of 
small  beer,  with  vegetables  and  salt  —  they  got  into  excellent  spirits 
when  free  of  sea-sickness.  The  rowing  of  the  boats  against  each  other 
became  a  favourite  amusement,  which  was  rather  a  fortunate  circum- 
stance, as  it  must  have  been  attended  with  much  inconvenience  had  it 
been  found  necessary  to  employ  a  sufficient  number  of  sailors  for  this 
purpose.  The  writer,  therefore,  encouraged  this  spirit  of  emulation,  and 

282 


THE   BUILDING   OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

the  speed  of  their  respective  boats  became  a  favourite  topic.  Premiums  1807 
for  boat-races  were  instituted,  which  were  contended  for  with  great 
eagerness,  and  the  respective  crews  kept  their  stations  in  the  boats 
with  as  much  precision  as  they  kept  their  beds  on  board  of  the  ship. 
With  these  and  other  pastimes,  when  the  weather  was  favourable,  the 
time  passed  away  among  the  inmates  of  the  forecastle  and  waist  of  the 
ship.  The  writer  looks  back  with  interest  upon  the  hours  of  solitude 
which  he  spent  in  this  lonely  ship  with  his  small  library. 

This  being  the  first  Saturday  that  the  artificers  were  afloat,  all  hands 
were  served  with  a  glass  of  rum  and  water  at  night,  to  drink  the  sail- 
ors' favourite  toast  of"  Wives  and  Sweethearts."  It  was  customary, 
upon  these  occasions,  for  the  seamen  and  artificers  to  collect  in  the 
galley,  when  the  musical  instruments  were  put  in  requisition :  for,  ac- 
cording to  invariable  practice,  every  man  must  play  a  tune,  sing  a  song, 
or  tell  a  story. 

Having,  on  the  previous  evening,  arranged  matters  with  the  land-  Sunday, 
ing-master  as  to  the  business  of  the  day,  the  signal  was  rung  for  all 
hands  at  half-past  seven  this  morning.  In  the  early  state  of  the  spring- 
tides the  artificers  went  to  the  rock  before  breakfast,  but  as  the  tides 
fell  later  in  the  day,  it  became  necessary  to  take  this  meal  before  leav- 
ing the  ship.  At  eight  o'clock  all  hands  were  assembled  on  the  quar- 
ter-deck for  prayers,  a  solemnity  which  was  gone  through  in  as  orderly 
a  manner  as  circumstances  would  admit.  When  the  weather  permit- 
ted, the  flags  of  the  ship  were  hung  up  as  an  awning  or  screen,  form- 
ing the  quarter-deck  into  a  distinct  compartment;  the  pendant  was 
also  hoisted  at  the  mainmast,  and  a  large  ensign  flag  was  displayed 
over  the  stern;  and  lastly,  the  ship's  companion,  or  top  of  the  stair- 
case, was  covered  with  the  flag  proper  of  the  Lighthouse  Service,  on 
which  the  Bible  was  laid.  A  particular  toll  of  the  bell  called  all  hands 
to  the  quarter-deck,  when  the  writer  read  a  chapter  of  the  Bible,  and, 
the  whole  ship's  company  being  uncovered,  he  also  read  the  impressive 
prayer  composed  by  the  Reverend  Dr.  Brunton,  one  of  the  ministers 
of  Edinburgh. 

Upon  concluding  this  service,  which  was  attended  with  becoming 
reverence  and  attention,  all  on  board  retired  to  their  respective  berths 
to  breakfast,  and,  at  half-past  nine,  the  bell  again  rung  for  the  artificers 
to  take  their  stations  in  their  respective  boats.  Some  demur  having 
been  evinced  on  board  about  the  propriety  of  working  on  Sunday, 

283 


A   FAMILY  OF   ENGINEERS 

1807  which  had  hitherto  been  touched  upon  as  delicately  as  possible,  all 
hands  being  called  aft,  the  writer,  from  the  quarter-deck,  stated  gen- 
erally the  nature  of  the  service,  expressing  his  hopes  that  every  man 
would  feel  himself  called  upon  to  consider  the  erection  of  a  lighthouse 
on  the  Bell  Rock,  in  every  point  of  view,  as  a  work  of  necessity  and 
mercy.  He  knew  that  scruples  had  existed  with  some,  and  these  had, 
indeed,  been  fairly  and  candidly  urged  before  leaving  the  shore;  but 
it  was  expected  that,  after  having  seen  the  critical  nature  of  the  rock, 
and  the  necessity  of  the  measure,  every  man  would  now  be  satisfied 
of  the  propriety  of  embracing  all  opportunities  of  landing  on  the  rock 
when  the  state  of  the  weather  would  permit.  The  writer  further  took 
them  to  witness  that  it  did  not  proceed  from  want  of  respect  for  the 
appointments  and  established  forms  of  religion  that  he  had  himself 
adopted  the  resolution  of  attending  the  Bell  Rock  works  on  the  Sun- 
day; but,  as  he  hoped,  from  a  conviction  that  it  was  his  bounden 
duty,  on  the  strictest  principles  of  morality.  At  the  same  time  it  was 
intimated  that,  if  any  were  of  a  different  opinion,  they  should  be  per- 
fectly at  liberty  to  hold  their  sentiments  without  the  imputation  of  con- 
tumacy or  disobedience;  the  only  difference  would  be  in  regard  to  the 
pay. 

Upon  stating  this  much,  he  stepped  into  his  boat,  requesting  all  who 
were  so  disposed  to  follow  him.  The  sailors,  from  their  habits,  found 
no  scruple  on  this  subject,  and  all  of  the  artificers,  though  a  little  tardy, 
also  embarked,  excepting  four  of  the  masons,  who,  from  the  beginning, 
mentioned  that  they  would  decline  working  on  Sundays.  It  may  here 
be  noticed  that  throughout  the  whole  of  the  operations  it  was  observ- 
able that  the  men  wrought,  if  possible,  with  more  keenness  upon  the 
Sundays  than  at  other  times,  from  an  impression  that  they  were  en- 
gaged in  a  work  of  imperious  necessity,  which  required  every  possible 
exertion.  On  returning  to  the  floating  light,  after  finishing  the  tide's 
work,  the  boats  were  received  by  the  part  of  the  ship's  crew  left  on 
board  with  the  usual  attention  of  handing  ropes  to  the  boats  and  help- 
ing the  artificers  on  board;  but  the  four  masons  who  had  absented 
themselves  from  the  work  did  not  appear  upon  deck. 

The  boats  left  the  floating  light  at  a  quarter-past  nine  o'clock  this 
morning,  and  the  work  began  at  three-quarters  past  nine ;  but  as  the 
neap-tides  were  approaching  the  working  time  at  the  rock  become 
gradually  shorter,  and  it  was  now  with  difficulty  that  two  and  a  half 

284 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL   ROCK 

hours'  work  could  be  got.     But  so  keenly  had  the  workmen  entered       18°7 
into  the  spirit  of  the  Beacon-house  operations,  that  they  continued  to 
bore  the  holes  in  the  rock  till  some  of  them  were  knee-deep  in  water. 

The  operations  at  this  time  were  entirely  directed  to  the  erection  of  M°ndiy, 
the  beacon,  in  which  every  man  felt  an  equal  interest,  as  at  this  critical 
period  the  slightest  casualty  to  any  of  the  boats  at  the  rock  might  have 
been  fatal  to  himself  individually,  while  it  was  perhaps  peculiar  to  the 
writer  more  immediately  to  feel  for  the  safety  of  the  whole.  Each  log 
or  upright  beam  of  the  beacon  was  to  be  fixed  to  the  rock  by  two 
strong  and  massive  bats  or  stanchions  of  iron.  These  bats,  for  the  fix- 
ture of  the  principal  and  diagonal  beams  and  bracing  chains,  required 
fifty-four  holes,  each  measuring  two  inches  in  diameter,  and  eighteen 
inches  in  depth.  There  had  already  been  so  considerable  a  progress 
made  in  boring  and  excavating  the  holes  that  the  writer's  hopes  of  get- 
ting the  beacon  erected  this  year  began  to  be  more  and  more  con- 
firmed, although  it  was  now  advancing  towards  what  was  considered 
the  latter  end  of  the  proper  working  season  at  the  Bell  Rock.  The 
foreman  joiner,  Mr.  Francis  Watt,  was  accordingly  appointed  to  attend 
at  the  rock  to-day,  when  the  necessary  levels  were  taken  for  the  step 
or  seat  of  each  particular  beam  of  the  beacon,  that  they  might  be  cut 
to  their  respective  lengths,  to  suit  the  inequalities  of  the  rock;  several 
of  the  stanchions  were  also  tried  into  their  places,  and  other  necessary 
observations  made,  to  prevent  mistakes  on  the  application  of  the  ap- 
paratus, and  to  facilitate  the  operations  when  the  beams  came  to  be 
set  up,  which  would  require  to  be  done  in  the  course  of  a  single  tide. 

We  had  now  experienced  an  almost  unvaried  tract  of  light  airs  of  Tuf5lay' 
easterly  wind,  with  clear  weather  in  the  fore-part  of  the  day,  and  fog 
in  the  evenings.  To-day,  however,  it  sensibly  changed  ;  when  the 
wind  came  to  the  south-west,  and  blew  a  fresh  breeze.  At  nine  a.m. 
the  bell  rung,  and  the  boats  were  hoisted  out,  and  though  the  artificers 
were  now  pretty  well  accustomed  to  tripping  up  and  down  the  sides 
of  the  floating  light,  yet  it  required  more  seamanship  this  morning  than 
usual.  It  therefore  afforded  some  merriment  to  those  who  had  got 
fairly  seated  in  their  respective  boats  to  see  the  difficulties  which  at- 
tended their  companions,  and  the  hesitating  manner  in  which  they 
quitted  hold  of  the  man-ropes  in  leaving  the  ship.  The  passage  to  the 
rock  was  tedious,  and  the  boats  did  not  reach  it  till  half-past  ten. 

It  being  now  the  period  of  neap-tides,  the  water  only  partially  left 
285 


A  FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

i*°7  the  rock  and  some  of  the  men  who  were  boring  on  the  lower  ledges 
of  the  site  of  the  beacon  stood  knee-deep  in  water.  The  situation  of 
the  smith  to-day  was  particularly  disagreeable,  but  his  services  were  at 
all  times  indispensable.  As  the  tide  did  not  leave  the  site  of  the  forge, 
he  stood  in  the  water,  and  as  there  was  some  roughness  on  the  surface 
it  was  with  considerable  difficulty  that,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
sailors,  he  was  enabled  to  preserve  alive  his  fire  ;  and,  while  his  feet 
were  immersed  in  water,  his  face  was  not  only  scorched,  but  contin- 
ually exposed  to  volumes  of  smoke,  accompanied  with  sparks  from  the 
fire,  which  were  occasionally  set  up  owing  to  the  strength  and  direction 
of  the  wind. 

Wednesday,  The  wind  had  shifted  this  morning  to  N.N.W.,  with  rain,  and  was 
blowing  what  sailors  call  a  fresh  breeze.  To  speak,  perhaps,  some- 
what more  intelligibly,  to  the  general  reader,  the  wind  was  such  that  a 
fishing-boat  could  just  carry  full  sail.  But  as  it  was  of  importance, 
specially  in  the  outset  of  the  business,  to  keep  up  the  spirit  of  enter- 
prise for  landing  on  all  practical  occasions,  the  writer,  after  consulting 
with  the  landing-master,  ordered  the  bell  to  be  rung  for  embarking, 
and  at  half-past  eleven  the  boats  reached  the  rock,  and  left  it  again  at 
a  quarter-past  twelve,  without,  however,  being  able  to  do  much  work, 
as  the  smith  could  not  be  set  to  work  from  the  smallness  of  the  ebb 
and  the  strong  breach  of  sea,  which  lashed  with  great  force  among  the 
bars  of  the  forge. 

Just  as  we  were  about  to  leave  the  rock  the  wind  shifted  to  the  S.W., 
and,  from  a  fresh  gale,  it  became  what  seamen  term  a  hard  gale,  or 
such  as  would  have  required  the  fisherman  to  take  in  two  or  three 
reefs  in  his  sail.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  respective  tides  of  ebb  and 
flood  are  apparent  upon  the  shore  about  an  hour  and  a  half  sooner  than 
at  the  distance  of  three  or  four  miles  in  the  offing.  But  what  seems 
chiefly  interesting  here  is  that  the  tides  around  this  small  sunken  rock 
should  follow  exactly  the  same  laws  as  on  the  extensive  shores  of  the 
mainland.  When  the  boats  left  the  Bell  Rock  to-day  it  was  overflowed 
by  the  flood-tide,  but  the  floating  light  did  not  swing  round  to  the 
flood-tide  for  more  than  an  hour  afterwards.  Under  this  disadvantage 
the  boats  had  to  struggle  with  the  ebb-tide  and  a  hard  gale  of  wind, 
so  that  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  they  reached  the  floating 
light.  Had  this  gale  happened  in  spring-tides  when  the  current  was 
strong  we  must  have  been  driven  to  sea  in  a  very  helpless  condition. 

286 


THE  BUILDING   OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

The  boat  which  the  writer  steered  was  considerably  behind  the  1807 
other,  one  of  the  masons  having  unluckily  broken  his  oar.  Our  pros- 
pect of  getting  on  board,  of  course,  became  doubtful,  and  our  situation 
was  rather  perilous,  as  the  boat  shipped  so  much  sea  that  it  occupied 
two  of  the  artificers  to  bale  and  clear  her  of  water.  When  the  oar  gave 
way  we  were  about  half  a  mile  from  the  ship,  but,  being  fortunately  to 
windward,  we  got  into  the  wake  of  the  floating  light,  at  about  250 
fathoms  astern,  just  as  the  landing-master's  boat  reached  the  vessel. 
He  immediately  streamed  or  floated  a  life-buoy  astern,  with  a  line 
which  was  always  in  readiness,  and  by  means  of  this  useful  implement 
the  boat  was  towed  alongside  of  the  floating  light,  where,  from  her 
rolling  motion,  it  required  no  small  management  to  get  safely  on  board, 
as  the  men  were  much  worn  out  with  their  exertions  in  pulling  from 
the  rock.  On  the  present  occasion  the  crews  of  both  boats  were  com- 
pletely drenched  with  spray,  and  those  who  sat  upon  the  bottom  of 
the  boats  to  bale  them  were  sometimes  pretty  deep  in  the  water  before 
it  could  be  cleared  out.  After  getting  on  board,  all  hands  were  allowed 
an  extra  dram,  and,  having  shifted  and  got  a  warm  and  comfortable 
dinner,  the  affair,  it  is  believed,  was  little  more  thought  of. 

The  tides  were  now  in  that  state  which  sailors  term  the  dead  of  the  Thursday 
neap,  and  it  was  not  expected  that  any  part  of  the  rock  would  be  seen  *7t  Ang< 
above  water  to-day  ;  at  any  rate,  it  was  obvious,  from  the  experience 
of  yesterday,  that  no  work  could  be  done  upon  it,  and  therefore  the 
artificers  were  not  required  to  land.  The  wind  was  at  west,  with  light 
breezes,  and  fine  clear  weather ;  and  as  it  was  an  object  with  the 
writer  to  know  the  actual  state  of  the  Bell  Rock  at  neap-tides,  he  got 
one  of  the  boats  manned,  and,  being  accompanied  by  the  landing- 
master,  went  to  it  at  a  quarter-past  twelve.  The  parts  of  the  rock  that 
appeared  above  water  being  very  trifling,  were  covered  by  every  wave, 
so  that  no  landing  was  made.  Upon  trying  the  depth  of  water  with  a 
boat-hook,  particularly  on  the  sites  of  the  lighthouse  and  beacon,  on 
the  former,  at  low  water,  the  depth  was  found  to  be  three  feet,  and  on 
the  central  parts  of  the  latter  it  was  ascertained  to  be  two  feet  eight 
inches.  Having  made  these  remarks,  the  boat  returned  to  the  ship  at 
two  p.m.,  and  the  weather  being  good,  the  artificers  were  found  amus- 
ing themselves  with  fishing.  The  Smeaton  came  from  Arbroath  this 
afternoon,  and  made  fast  to  her  moorings,  having  brought  letters  and 
newspapers,  with  parcels  of  clean  linen,  etc.,  for  the  workmen,  who 

287 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'807  Were  also  made  happy  by  the  arrival  of  three  of  their  comrades  from 
the  workyard  ashore.  From  these  men  they  not  only  received  all  the 
news  of  the  workyard,  but  seemed  themselves  to  enjoy  great  pleasure 
in  communicating  whatever  they  considered  to  be  interesting  with  re- 
gard to  the  rock.  Some  also  got  letters  from  their  friends  at  a  distance, 
the  postage  of  which  for  the  men  afloat  was  always  free,  so  that  they 
corresponded  the  more  readily. 

The  site  of  the  building  having  already  been  carefully  traced  out 
with  the  pick-axe,  the  artificers  this  day  commenced  the  excavation  of 
the  rock  for  the  foundation  or  first  course  of  the  lighthouse.  Four  men 
only  were  employed  at  this  work,  while  twelve  continued  at  the  site 
of  the  beacon-house,  at  which  every  possible  opportunity  was  em- 
braced, till  this  essential  part  of  the  operations  should  be  completed. 

^e'd*r'  "^e  float'ng  light's  bell  rung  this  morning  at  half-past  four  o'clock, 
as  a  signal  for  the  boats  to  be  got  ready,  and  the  landing  took  place  at 
half-past  five.  In  passing  the  Smeaton  at  her  moorings  near  the  rock, 
her  boat  followed  with  eight  additional  artificers  who  had  come  from 
Arbroath  with  her  at  last  trip,  but  there  being  no  room  for  them  in  the 
floating  light's  boats,  they  had  continued  on  board.  The  weather  did 
not  look  very  promising  in  the  morning,  the  wind  blowing  pretty  fresh 
from  W.S.W.:  and  had  it  not  been  that  the  writer  calculated  upon 
having  a  vessel  so  much  at  command,  in  all  probability  he  would  not 
have  ventured  to  land.  The  Smeaton  rode  at  what  sailors  call  a  sal- 
vagee, with  a  cross-head  made  fast  to  the  floating  buoy.  This  kind 
of  attachment  was  found  to  be  more  convenient  than  the  mode  of 
passing  the  hawser  through  the  ring  of  the  buoy  when  the  vessel  was 
to  be  made  fast.  She  had  then  only  to  be  steered  very  close  to  the 
buoy,  when  the  salvagee  was  laid  hold  of  with  a  boat-hook,  and  the 
bite  of  the  hawser  thrown  over  the  cross-head.  But  the  salvagee,  by 
this  method,  was  always  left  at  the  buoy,  and  was,  of  course,  more 
liable  to  chafe  and  wear  than  a  hawser  passed  through  the  ring,  which 
could  be  wattled  with  canvas,  and  shifted  at  pleasure.  The  salvagee 
and  cross  method  is,  however,  much  practised  ;  but  the  experience  of 
this  morning  showed  it  to  be  very  unsuitable  for  vessels  riding  in  an 
exposed  situation  for  any  length  of  time. 

Soon  after  the  artificers  landed  they  commenced  work;  but  the  wind 
coming  to  blow  hard,  the  Smeaton's  boat  and  crew,  who  had  brought 
their  complement  of  eight  men  to  the  rock,  went  off  to  examine  her 

288 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

riding  ropes,  and  see  that  they  were  in  proper  order.  The  boat  had  l8°? 
no  sooner  reached  the  vessel  than  she  went  adrift,  carrying  the  boat 
along  with  her.  By  the  time  that  she  was  got  round  to  make  a  tack 
towards  the  rock,  she  had  drifted  at  least  three  miles  to  leeward,  with 
the  praamboat  astern ;  and,  having  both  the  wind  and  a  tide  against 
her,  the  writer  perceived,  with  no  little  anxiety,  that  she  could  not  pos- 
sibly return  to  the  rock  till  long  after  its  being  overflowed ;  for,  owing 
to  the  anomaly  of  the  tides  formerly  noticed,  the  Bell  Rock  is  com- 
pletely under  water  when  the  ebb  abates  to  the  offing. 

In  this  perilous  predicament,  indeed,  he  found  himself  placed  between 
hope  and  despair  —  but  certainly  the  latter  was  by  much  the  most  pre- 
dominant feeling  of  his  mind  —  situate  upon  a  sunken  rock  in  the 
middle  of  the  ocean,  which,  in  the  progress  of  the  flood-tide,  was  to  be 
laid  under  water  to  the  depth  of  at  least  twelve  feet  in  a  stormy  sea. 
There  were  this  morning  thirty-two  persons  in  all  upon  the  rock,  with 
only  two  boats,  whose  complement,  even  in  good  weather,  did  not 
exceed  twenty-four  sitters;  but  to  row  to  the  floating-light  with  so 
much  wind,  and  in  so  heavy  a  sea,  a  complement  of  eight  men  for  each 
boat  was  as  much  as  could,  with  propriety,  be  attempted,  so  that,  in 
this  way,  about  one-half  of  our  number  was  unprovided  for.  Under 
these  circumstances,  had  the  writer  ventured  to  dispatch  one  of  the 
boats  in  expectation  of  either  working  the  Smeaton  sooner  up  towards 
the  rock,  or  in  hopes  of  getting  her  boat  brought  to  our  assistance,  this 
must  have  given  an  immediate  alarm  to  the  artificers,  each  of  whom 
would  have  insisted  upon  taking  to  his  own  boat,  and  leaving  the 
eight  artificers  belonging  to  the  Smeaton  to  their  chance.  Of  course  a 
scuffle  might  have  ensued,  and  it  is  hard  to  say,  in  the  ardour  of  men 
contending  for  life,  where  it  might  have  ended.  It  has  even  been 
hinted  to  the  writer  that  a  party  of  the  pickmen  were  determined  to 
keep  exclusively  to  their  own  boat  against  all  hazards. 

The  unfortunate  circumstance  of  the  Smeaton  and  her  boat  having 
drifted  was,  for  a  considerable  time,  only  known  to  the  writer  and  to 
the  landing-master,  who  removed  to  the  farther  point  of  the  rock, 
where  he  kept  his  eye  steadily  upon  the  progress  of  the  vessel.  While 
the  artificers  were  at  work,  chiefly  in  sitting  or  kneeling  postures,  ex- 
cavating the  rock,  or  boring  with  the  jumpers,  and  while  their  numer- 
ous hammers,  with  the  sound  of  the  smith's  anvil,  continued,  the  situ- 
tion  of  things  did  not  appear  so  awful.  In  this  state  of  suspense,  with 

289 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1807  almost  certain  destruction  at  hand,  the  water  began  to  rise  upon  those 
who  were  at  work  on  the  lower  parts  of  the  sites  of  the  beacon  and 
lighthouse.  From  the  run  of  sea  upon  the  rock,  the  forge  fire  was  also 
sooner  extinguished  this  morning  than  usual,  and  the  volumes  of  smoke 
having  ceased,  objects  in  every  direction  became  visible  from  all  parts 
of  the  rock.  After  having  had  about  three  hours'  work,  the  men  be- 
gan, pretty  generally,  to  make  towards  their  respective  boats  for  their 
jackets  and  stockings,  when,  to  their  astonishment,  instead  of  three, 
they  found  only  two  boats,  the  third  being  adrift  with  the  Smeaton. 
Not  a  word  was  uttered  by  any  one,  but  all  appeared  to  be  silently 
calculating  their  numbers,  and  looking  to  each  other  with  evident 
marks  of  perplexity  depicted  in  their  countenances.  The  landing- 
master,  conceiving  that  blame  might  be  attached  to  him,  for  allowing 
the  boat  to  leave  the  rock,  still  kept  at  a  distance.  At  this  critical  mo- 
ment the  author  was  standing  upon  an  elevated  part  of  Smith's  Ledge, 
where  he  endeavored  to  mark  the  progress  of  the  Smeaton,  not  a  little 
surprised  that  her  crew  did  not  cut  the  praam  adrift,  which  greatly  re- 
tarded her  way,  and  amazed  that  some  effort  was  not  making  to  bring 
at  least  the  boat,  and  attempt  our  relief.  The  workmen  looked  stead- 
fastly upon  the  writer,  and  turned  occasionally  towards  the  vessel,  still 
far  to  leeward.1  All  this  passed  in  the  most  perfect  silence,  and  the 
melancholy  solemnity  of  the  group  made  an  impression  never  to  be 
effaced  from  his  mind. 

The  writer  had  all  along  been  considering  of  various  schemes  —  pro- 
viding the  men  could  be  kept  under  command  —  which  might  be  put 
in  practice  for  the  general  safety,  in  hopes  that  the  Smeaton  might  be 
able  to  pick  up  the  boats  to  leeward,  when  they  were  obliged  to  leave 
the  rock.  He  was,  accordingly,  about  to  address  the  artificers  on  the 
perilous  nature  of  their  circumstances,  and  to  propose  that  all  hands 
should  unstrip  their  upper  clothing  when  the  higher  parts  of  the  rock 
were  laid  under  water;  that  the  seamen  should  remove  every  unneces- 
sary weight  and  encumbrance  from  the  boats;  that  a  specified  number 
of  men  should  go  into  each  boat,  and  that  the  remainder  should  hang 
by  the  gunwales,  while  the  boats  were  to  be  rowed  gently  towards  the 
Smeaton,  as  the  course  to  the  Pharos,  or  floating  light,  lay  rather  to 
windward  of  the  rock.  But  when  he  attempted  to  speak  his  mouth 
was  so  parched  that  his  tongue  refused  utterance,  and  he  now  learned 
1  "Nothing  was  said,  but  I  was  looked  out  of  caunttnanct,"  he  sajrs  in  a  letter 
2OO 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL   ROCK 

by  experience  that  the  saliva  is  as  necessary  as  the  tongue  itself  for 
speech.  He  turned  to  one  of  the  pools  on  the  rock  and  lapped  a  little 
water,  which  produced  immediate  relief.  But  what  was  his  happiness, 
when  on  rising  from  this  unpleasant  beverage,  some  one  called  out, 
"A  boat!  a  boat!  "  and,  on  looking  around,  at  no  great  distance,  a 
large  boat  was  seen  through  the  haze  making  towards  the  rock.  This 
at  once  enlivened  and  rejoiced  every  heart.  The  timeous  visitor 
proved  to  be  James  Spink,  the  Bell  Rock  pilot,  who  had  come  express 
from  Arbroath  with  letters.  Spink  had  for  some  time  seen  the  Smeaton, 
and  had  even  supposed,  from  the  state  of  the  weather,  that  all  hands 
were  on  board  of  her  till  he  approached  more  nearly  and  observed  peo- 
ple upon  the  rock;  but  not  supposing  that  the  assistance  of  his  boat 
was  necessary  to  carry  the  artificers  off  the  rock,  he  anchored  on  the 
lee-side  and  began  to  fish,  waiting,  as  usual,  till  the  letters  were  sent 
for,  as  the  pilot-boat  was  too  large  and  unwieldy  for  approaching  the 
rock  when  there  was  any  roughness  or  run  of  the  sea  at  the  entranc* 
of  the  landing  creeks. 

Upon  this  fortunate  change  of  circumstances,  sixteen  of  the  artificers 
were  sent,  at  two  trips,  in  one  of  the  boats,  with  instructions  for  Spink 
to  proceed  with  them  to  the  floating  light.  This  being  accomplished, 
the  remaining  sixteen  followed  in  the  two  boats  belonging  to  the  ser- 
vice of  the  rock.  Every  one  felt  the  most  perfect  happiness  at  leaving 
the  Bell  Rock  this  morning,  though  a  very  hard  and  even  dangerous 
passage  to  the  floating  light  still  awaited  us,  as  the  wind  by  this  time 
had  increased  to  a  pretty  hard  gale,  accompanied  with  a  considerable 
swell  of  sea.  Every  one  was  as  completely  drenched  in  water  as  if  he 
had  been  dragged  astern  of  the  boats.  The  writer,  in  particular,  being 
at  the  helm,  found,  on  getting  on  board,  that  his  face  and  ears  were 
completely  coated  with  a  thin  film  of  salt  from  the  sea  spray,  which 
broke  constantly  over  the  bows  of  the  boat.  After  much  baling  of 
water  and  severe  work  at  the  oars,  the  three  boats  reached  the  floating 
light,  where  some  new  difficulties  occurred  in  getting  on  board  in 
safety,  owing  partly  to  the  exhausted  state  of  the  men,  and  partly  to 
the  violent  rolling  of  the  vessel. 

As  the  tide  flowed,  it  was  expected  that  the  Smeaton  would  have 
got  to  windward;  but,  seeing  that  all  was  safe,  after  tacking  for  several 
hours  and  making  little  progress,  she  bore  away  for  Arbroath,  with  the 
praam-boat.  As  there  was  now  too  much  wind  for  the  pilot-boat  to 

291 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

i*°7  return  to  Arbroath,  she  was  made  fast  astern  of  the  floating  light,  and 
the  crew  remained  on  board  till  next  day,  when  the  weather  moderated. 
There  can  be  very  little  doubt  that  the  appearance  of  James  Spink  with 
his  boat  on  this  critical  occasion  was  the  means  of  preventing  the  loss 
of  lives  at  the  rock  this  morning.  When  these  circumstances,  somt 
years  afterwards,  came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Board,  a  small  pension 
was  ordered  to  our  faithful  pilot,  then  in  his  seventieth  year;  and  he 
still  continues  to  wear  the  uniform  clothes  and  badge  of  the  Lighthouse 
service.  Spink  is  a  remarkably  strong  man,  whose  tout  ensemble  is 
highly  characteristic  of  a  North-country  fisherman.  He  usually  dresses 
in  a  pe-jacket,  cut  after  a  particular  fashion,  and  wears  a  large,  flat, 
blue  bonnet.  A  striking  likeness  of  Spink  in  his  pilot-dress,  with  the 
badge  or  insignia  on  his  left  arm  which  is  characteristic  of  the  boatmen 
in  the  service  of  the  Northern  Lights,  has  been'taken  by  Howe,  and  is 
in  the  writer's  possession. 

Thursday,  The  bell  rung  this  morning  at  five  o'clock,  but  the  writer  must  ac- 
knowledge, from  the  circumstances  of  yesterday,  that  its  sound  was  ex- 
tremely unwelcome.  This  appears  also  to  have  been  the  feelings  of 
the  artificers,  for  when  they  came  to  be  mustered,  out  of  twenty-six, 
only  eight,  besides  the  foreman  and  seamen,  appeared  upon  deck  to 
accompany  the  writer  to  the  rock.  Such  are  the  baneful  effects  of 
anything  like  misfortune  or  accident  connected  with  a  work  of  this  de- 
scription. The  use  of  argument  to  persuade  the  men  to  embark  in 
cases  of  this  kind  would  have  been  out  of  place,  as  it  is  not  only  dis- 
comfort, or  even  the  risk  of  the  loss  of  a  limb,  but  life  itself  that  be- 
comes the  question.  The  boats,  notwithstanding  the  thinness  of  our 
ranks,  left  the  vessel  at  half-past  five.  The  rough  weather  of  yester- 
day having  proved  but  a  summer's  gale,  the  wind  came  to-day  in 
gentle  breezes;  yet,  the  atmosphere  being  cloudy,  it  had  not  a  very 
favourable  appearance.  The  boats  reached  the  rock  at  six  a.  m.,  and 
the  eight  artificers  who  landed  were  employed  in  clearing  out  the  bat- 
holes  for  the  beacon-house,  and  had  a  very  prosperous  tide  of  four 
hours'  work,  being  the  longest  yet  experienced  by  half  an  hour. 

The  boats  left  the  rock  again  at  ten  o'clock,  and  the  weather  having 
cleared  up  as  we  drew  near  the  vessel,  the  eighteen  artificers  who  had  re- 
mained on  board  were  observed  upon  deck,  but  as  the  boats  approached 
they  sought  their  way  below,  being  quite  ashamed  of  their  conduct.  This 
was  the  only  instance  of  refusal  to  go  to  the  rock  which  occurred  during 

2Q2 


THE   BUILDING   OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

the  whole  progress  of  the  work,  excepting  that  of  the  four  men  who  de-        »8°7 
clined  working  upon  Sunday,  a  case  which  the  writer  did  not  conceive 
to  be  at  all  analogous  to  the  present.    It  may  here  be  mentioned,  much 
to  the  credit  of  these  four  men,  that  they  stood  foremost  in  embarking 
for  the  rock  this  morning. 

It  was  fortunate  that  a  landing  was  not  attempted  this  evening,  for  5*^*^' 
at  eight  o'clock  the  wind  shifted  to  E.S.E.,  and  at  ten  it  had  become 
a  hard  gale,  when  fifty  fathoms  of  the  floating  light's  hempen  cable 
were  veered  out.  The  gale  still  increasing,  the  ship  rolled  and  laboured 
excessively,  and  at  midnight  eighty  fathoms  of  cable  were  veered  out ; 
while  the  sea  continued  to  strike  the  vessel  with  a  degree  of  force 
which  had  not  before  been  experienced. 

During  the  last  night  there  was  little  rest  on  board  of  the  Pharos,  Sunday, 
and  daylight,  though  anxiously  wished  for,  brought  no  relief,  as  the  ' ' Sept> 
gale  continued  with  unabated  violence.  The  sea  struck  so  hard  upon 
the  vessel's  bows  that  it  rose  in  great  quantities,  or  in  "  green  seas,"  as 
the  sailors  termed  it,  which  were  carried  by  the  wind  as  far  aft  as  the 
quarter-deck,  and  not  unfrequently  over  the  stern  of  the  ship  altogether. 
It  fell  occasionally  so  heavily  on  the  skylight  of  the  writer's  cabin, 
though  so  far  aft  as  to  be  within  five  feet  of  the  helm,  that  the  glass 
was  broken  to  pieces  before  the  dead-light  could  be  got  into  its  place, 
so  that  the  water  poured  down  in  great  quantities.  In  shutting  out  the 
water,  the  admission  of  light  was  prevented,  and  in  the  morning  all  con- 
tinued in  the  most  comfortless  state  of  darkness.  About  ten  o'clock 
a.m.  the  wind  shifted  to  N.E.,  and  blew,  if  possible,  harder  than  before, 
and  it  was  accompanied  by  a  much  heavier  swell  of  sea.  In  the  course 
of  the  gale,  the  part  of  the  cable  in  the  hause-hole  had  been  so  often 
shifted  that  nearly  the  whole  length  of  one  of  her  hempen  cables,  of  120 
fathoms,  had  been  veered  out,  besides  the  chain-moorings.  The  cable, 
for  its  preservation,  was  also  carefully  served  or  wattled  with  pieces 
of  canvas  round  the  windlass,  and  with  leather  well  greased  in  the 
hause-hole.  In  this  state  things  remained  during  the  whole  day, 
every  sea  which  struck  the  vessel  —  and  the  seas  followed  each  other  in 
close  succession  —  causing  her  to  shake,  and  all  on  board  occasionally 
to  tremble.  At  each  of  these  strokes  of  the  sea  the  rolling  and  pitch- 
ing of  the  vessel  ceased  for  a  time,  and  her  motion  was  felt  as  if  she 
had  either  broke  adrift  before  the  wind  or  were  in  the  act  of  sinking; 
but,  when  another  sea  came,  she  ranged  up  against  it  with  great  fore*, 

293 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'•°7  and  this  became  the  regular  intimation  of  our  being  still  riding  at 
anchor. 

About  eleven  o'clock,  the  writer  with  some  difficulty  got  out  of  bed, 
but,  in  attempting  to  dress,  he  was  thrown  twice  upon  the  floor  at  the 
opposite  side  of  the  cabin.  In  an  undressed  state  he  made  shift  to  get 
about  half-way  up  the  companion-stairs,  with  an  intention  to  observe 
the  state  of  the  sea  and  of  the  ship  upon  deck;  but  he  no  sooner  looked 
over  the  companion  than  a  heavy  sea  struck  the  vessel,  which  fell  on 
the  quarter-deck,  and  rushed  down-stairs  into  the  officers'  cabin  in  so 
considerable  a  quantity  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  lift  one  of  the 
scuttles  in  the  floor,  to  let  the  water  into  the  limbers  of  the  ship,  as  it 
dashed  from  side  to  side  in  such  a  manner  as  to  run  into  the  lower  tier 
of  beds.  Having  been  foiled  in  this  attempt,  and  being  completely 
wetted,  he  again  got  below  and  went  to  bed.  In  this  state  of  the 
weather  the  seamen  had  to  move  about  the  necessary  or  indispensable 
duties  of  the  ship  with  the  most  cautious  use  both  of  hands  and  feet, 
while  it  required  all  the  art  of  the  landsman  to  keep  within  the  pre- 
cincts of  his  bed.  The  writer  even  found  himself  so  much  tossed  about 
that  it  became  necesssary,  in  some  measure,  to  shut  himself  in  bed,  in 
order  to  avoid  being  thrown  upon  the  floor.  Indeed,  such  was  the 
motion  of  the  ship  that  it  seemed  wholly  impracticable  to  remain  in  any 
other  than  a  lying  posture.  On  deck  the  most  stormy  aspect  presented 
itself,  while  below  all  was  wet  and  comfortless. 

About  two  o'clock  p.m.  a  great  alarm  was  given  throughout  the  ship 
from  the  effects  of  a  very  heavy  sea  which  struck  her,  and  almost  filled 
the  waist,  pouring  down  into  the  berths  below,  through  every  chink 
and  crevice  of  the  hatches  and  skylights.  From  the  motion  of  the  ves- 
sel being  thus  suddenly  deadened  or  checked,  and  from  the  flowing  in 
of  the  water  above,  it  is  believed  there  was  not  an  individual  on  board 
who  did  not  think,  at  the  moment,  that  the  vessel  had  foundered,  and 
was  in  the  act  of  sinking.  The  writer  could  withstand  this  no  longer, 
and  as  soon  as  she  again  began  to  range  to  the  sea  he  determined  to 
make  another  effort  to  get  upon  deck.  In  the  first  instance,  however, 
he  groped  his  way  in  darkness  from  his  own  cabin  through  the  berths 
of  the  officers,  where  all  was  quietness.  He  next  entered  the  galley 
and  other  compartments  occupied  by  the  artificers.  Here  also  all  was 
shut  up  in  darkness,  the  fire  having  been  drowned  out  in  the  early  part 
of  the  gale.  Several  of  the  artificers  were  employed  in  prayer,  repeat- 

294 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

ing  psalms,  and  other  devotional  exercises  in  a  full  tone  of  voice;  others  '807 
protesting  that,  if  they  should  fortunately  get  once  more  on  shore,  no 
one  should  ever  see  them  afloat  again.  With  the  assistance  of  the 
landing-master,  the  writer  made  his  way,  holding  on  step  by  step, 
among  the  numerous  impediments  which  lay  in  the  way.  Such  was 
the  creaking  noise  of  the  bulkheads  or  partitions,  the  dashing  of  the 
water,  and  the  whistling  noise  of  the  winds,  that  it  was  hardly  possible 
to  break  in  upon  such  a  confusion  of  sounds.  In  one  or  two  instances, 
anxious  and  repeated  inquiries  were  made  by  the  artificers  as  to  the 
state  of  things  upon  deck,  to  which  the  captain  made  the  usual  an- 
swer, that  it  could  not  blow  long  in  this  way,  and  that  we  must  soon 
have  better  weather.  The  next  berth  in  succession,  moving  forward  in 
the  ship,  was  that  allotted  for  the  seamen.  Here  the  scene  was  con- 
siderably different.  Having  reached  the  middle  of  this  darksome  berth 
without  its  inmates  being  aware  of  any  intrusion,  the  writer  had  the 
consolation  of  remarking  that,  although  they  talked  of  bad  weather 
and  the  cross  accidents  of  the  sea,  yet  the  conversation  was  carried  on 
in  that  sort  of  tone  and  manner  which  bespoke  an  ease  and  composure 
of  mind  highly  creditable  to  them  and  pleasing  to  him.  The  writer  im- 
mediately accosted  the  seamen  about  the  state  of  the  ship.  To  these 
Inquiries  they  replied  that  the  vessel  being  light,  and  having  but  little 
hold  of  the  water,  no  top-rigging,  with  excellent  ground-tackle,  and 
everything  being  fresh  and  new,  they  felt  perfect  confidence  in  their 
situation. 

It  being  impossible  to  open  any  of  the  hatches  in  the  fore  part  of  the 
ship  in  communicating  with  the  deck,  the  watch  was  changed  by  pass- 
ing through  the  several  berths  to  the  companion-stair  leading  to  the 
quarter-deck.  The  writer,  therefore,  made  the  best  of  his  way  aft, 
and,  on  a  second  attempt  to  look  out,  he  succeeded,  and  saw  indeed 
an  astonishing  sight.  The  sea  or  waves  appeared  to  be  ten  or  fifteen 
feet  in  height  of  unbroken  water,  and  every  approaching  billow  seemed 
as  if  it  would  overwhelm  our  vessel,  but  she  continued  to  rise  upon  the 
waves  and  to  fall  between  the  seas  in  a  very  wonderful  manner.  It 
seemed  to  be  only  those  seas  which  caught  her  in  the  act  of  rising 
which  struck  her  with  so  much  violence  and  threw  such  quantities  of 
water  aft.  On  deck  there  was  only  one  solitary  individual  looking  out, 
to  give  the  alarm  in  the  event  of  the  ship  breaking  from  her  moorings. 
The  seaman  on  watch  continued  only  two  hours;  he  who  kept  watch 

295 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'807  at  this  time  was  a  tall,  slender  man  of  a  black  complexion ;  he  had  no 
greatcoat  nor  over-all  of  any  kind,  but  was  simply  dressed  in  his  ordi- 
nary jacket  and  trousers;  his  hat  was  tied  under  his  chin  with  a  nap- 
kin, and  he  stood  aft  the  foremast,  to  which  he  had  lashed  himself 
with  a  gasket  or  small  rope  round  his  waist,  to  prevent  his  falling 
upon  deck  or  being  washed  overboard.  When  the  writer  looked  up, 
he  appeared  to  smile,  which  afforded  a  further  symptom  of  the  confi- 
dence of  the  crew  in  their  ship.  This  person  on  watch  was  as  com- 
pletely wetted  as  if  he  had  been  drawn  through  the  sea,  which  was 
given  as  a  reason  for  his  not  putting  on  a  greatcoat,  that  he  might  wet 
as  few  of  his  clothes  as  possible,  and  have  a  dry  shift  when  he  went 
below.  Upon  deck  everything  that  was  movable  was  out  of  sight, 
having  either  been  stowed  below,  previous  to  the  gale,  or  been  washed 
overboard.  Some  trifling  parts  of  the  quarter  boards  were  damaged 
by  the  breach  of  the  sea;  and  one  of  the  boats  upon  deck  was  about 
one-third  full  of  water,  the  oyle-hole  or  drain  having  been  accidentally 
stopped  up,  and  part  of  her  gunwale  had  received  considerable  injury. 
These  observations  were  hastily  made,  and  not  without  occasionally 
shutting  the  companion,  to  avoid  being  wetted  by  the  successive  seas 
which  broke  over  the  bows  and  fell  upon  different  parts  of  the  deck 
according  to  the  impetus  with  which  the  waves  struck  the  vessel.  By 
this  time  it  was  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  gale, 
which  had  now  continued  with  unabated  force  for  twenty-seven  hours, 
had  not  the  least  appearance  of  going  off. 

In  the  dismal  prospect  of  undergoing  another  night  like  the  last,  and 
being  in  imminent  hazard  of  parting  from  our  cable,  the  writer  thought 
it  necessary  to  advise  with  the  master  and  officers  of  the  ship  as  to  the 
probable  event  of  the  vessel's  drifting  from  her  moorings.  They  sev- 
erally gave  it  as  their  opinion  that  we  had  now  every  chance  of  riding 
out  the  gale,  which,  in  all  probability,  could  not  continue  with  the 
same  fury  many  hours  longer;  and  that  even  if  she  should  part  from 
her  anchor,  the  storm-sails  had  been  laid  to  hand,  and  could  be  bent 
in  a  very  short  time.  They  further  stated  that  from  the  direction  of 
the  wind  being  N.E.,  she  would  sail  up  the  Firth  of  Forth  to  Leith 
Roads.  But  if  this  should  appear  doubtful,  after  passing  the  Island 
and  Light  of  May,  it  might  be  advisable  at  once  to  steer  for  Tyningham 
Sands,  on  the  western  side  of  Dunbar,  and  there  run  the  vessel  ashore. 
If  this  should  happen  at  the  time  of  high-water,  or  during  the  ebbing 

296 


THE   BUILDING   OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

of  the  tide,  they  were  of  opinion,  from  the  flatness  and  strength  of  the  '807 
floating  light,  that  no  danger  would  attend  her  taking  the  ground, 
even  with  a  very  heavy  sea.  The  writer,  seeing  the  confidence  which 
these  gentlemen  possessed  with  regard  to  the  situation  of  things,  found 
himself  as  much  relieved  with  this  conversation  as  he  had  previously 
been  with  the  seeming  indifference  of  the  forecastle-men,  and  the  smile 
of  the  watch  upon  deck,  though  literally  lashed  to  the  foremast.  From 
this  time  he  felt  himself  almost  perfectly  at  ease;  at  any  rate,  he  was 
entirely  resigned  to  the  ultimate  result. 

About  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  the  ship's  company  was  heard  mov- 
ing upon  deck,  which  on  the  present  occasion  was  rather  the  cause  of 
alarm.  The  writer  accordingly  rang  his  bell  to  know  what  was  the 
matter,  when  he  was  informed  by  the  steward  that  the  weather  looked 
considerably  better,  and  that  the  men  upon  deck  were  endeavouring  to 
ship  the  smoke-funnel  of  the  galley  that  the  people  might  get  some 
meat.  This  was  a  more  favourable  account  than  had  been  anticipated. 
During  the  last  twenty-one  hours  he  himself  had  not  only  had  nothing 
to  eat,  but  he  had  almost  never  passed  a  thought  on  the  subject. 
Upon  the  mention  of  a  change  of  weather,  he  sent  the  steward  to  learn 
how  the  artificers  felt,  and  on  his  return  he  stated  that  they  now 
seemed  to  be  all  very  happy,  since  the  cook  had  begun  to  light  the 
galley-fire  and  make  preparations  for  the  suet-pudding  of  Sunday, 
which  was  the  only  dish  to  be  attempted  for  the  mess,  from  the  ease 
with  which  it  could  both  be  cooked  and  served  up. 

The  principal  change  felt  upon  the  ship  as  the  wind  abated  was  her 
increased  rolling  motion,  but  the  pitching  was  much  diminished,  and 
now  hardly  any  sea  came  farther  aft  than  the  foremast;  but  she  rolled 
so  extremely  hard  as  frequently  to  dip  and  take  in  water  over  the  gun- 
wales and  rails  in  the  waist.  By  nine  o'clock  all  hands  had  been  re- 
freshed by  the  exertions  of  the  cook  and  steward,  and  were  happy  in 
the  prospect  of  the  worst  of  the  gale  being  over.  The  usual  comple- 
ment of  men  was  also  now  set  on  watch,  and  more  quietness  was  ex- 
perienced throughout  the  ship.  Although  the  previous  night  had  been 
a  very  restless  one,  it  had  not  the  effect  of  inducing  repose  in  the 
writer's  berth  on  the  succeeding  night;  for  having  been  so  much  tossed 
about  in  bed  during  the  last  thirty  hours,  he  found  no  easy  spot  to 
turn  to,  and  his  body  was  all  sore  to  the  touch,  which  ill  accorded  with 
the  unyielding  materials  with  which  his  bed-place  was  surrounded. 

297 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'807  This  morning,  about  eight  o'clock,  the  writer  was  agreeably  sur» 

7th  sept,'  prised  to  see  the  scuttle  of  his  cabin  skylight  removed,  and  the  bright 
rays  of  the  sun  admitted.  Although  the  ship  continued  to  roll  exces- 
sively, and  the  sea  was  still  running  very  high,  yet  the  ordinary  busi- 
ness on  board  seemed  to  be  going  forward  on  deck.  It  was  impossible 
to  steady  a  telescope,  so  as  to  look  minutely  at  the  progress  of  the 
waves  and  trace  their  breach  upon  the  Bell  Rock;  but  the  height  to 
which  the  cross-running  waves  rose  in  sprays  when  they  met  each 
other  was  truly  grand,  and  the  continued  roar  and  noise  of  the  sea  was 
very  perceptible  to  the  ear.  To  estimate  the  height  of  the  sprays  at 
forty  or  fifty  feet  would  surely  be  within  the  mark.  Those  of  the 
workmen  who  were  not  much  afflicted  with  sea-sickness  came  upon 
deck,  and  the  wetness  below  being  dried  up,  the  cabins  were  again 
brought  into  a  habitable  state.  Every  one  seemed  to  meet  as  if  after  a 
long  absence,  congratulating  his  neighbour  upon  the  return  of  good 
weather.  Little  could  be  said  as  to  the  comfort  of  the  vessel,  but  after 
riding  out  such  a  gale,  no  one  felt  the  least  doubt  or  hesitation  as  to 
the  safety  and  good  condition  of  her  moorings.  The  master  and  mate 
were  extremely  anxious,  however,  to  heave  in  the  hempen  cable,  and 
see  the  state  of  the  clinch  or  iron  ring  of  the  chain-cable.  But  the 
vessel  rolled  at  such  a  rate  that  the  seamen  could  not  possibly  keep 
their  feet  at  the  windlae*  nor  work  the  handspikes,  though  it  had  been 
several  times  attempted  since  the  gale  took  off. 

About  twelve  noon,  however,  the  vessel's  motion  was  observed  to 
be  considerably  less,  and  the  sailors  were  enabled  to  walk  upon  deck 
with  some  degree  of  freedom.  But,  to  the  astonishment  of  every  one, 
it  was  soon  discovered  that  the  floating  light  was  adrift!  The  windlass 
was  instantly  manned,  and  the  men  soon  gave  out  that  there  was  no 
strain  upon  the  cable.  The  mizzen  sail,  which  was  bent  for  the  occa- 
sional purpose  of  making  the  vessel  ride  more  easily  to  the  tide,  was 
immediately  set,  and  the  other  sails  were  also  hoisted  in  a  short  time, 
when,  in  no  small  consternation,  we  bore  away  about  one  mile  to  the 
south-westward  of  the  former  station,  and  there  let  go  the  best  bower 
anchor  and  cable  in  twenty  fathoms  water,  to  ride  until  the  swell  of 
the  sea  should  fall,  when  it  might  be  practicable  to  grapple  for  the 
moorings,  and  find  a  better  anchorage  for  the  ship. 

Tue»d»y,       This  morning,  at  five  a.m.,  the  bell  rung  as  a  signal  for  landing 
'  upon  the  rock,  a  sound  which,  after  a  lapse  of  ten  days,  it  is  believed 

298 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

was  welcomed  by  every  one  on  board.  There  being  a  heavy  breach  1*07 
of  sea  at  the  eastern  creek,  we  landed,  though  not  without  difficulty, 
on  the  western  side,  every  one  seeming  more  eager  than  another  to  get 
upon  the  rock;  and  never  did  hungry  men  sit  down  to  a  hearty  meal 
with  more  appetite  than  the  artificers  began  to  pick  the  dulse  from  the 
rocks.  This  marine  plant  had  the  effect  of  reviving  the  sickly,  and 
seemed  to  be  no  less  relished  by  those  who  were  more  hardy. 

While  the  water  was  ebbing,  and  the  men  were  roaming  in  quest  of 
their  favourite  morsel,  the  writer  was  examining  the  effects  of  the  storm 
upon  the  forge  and  loose  apparatus  left  upon  the  rock.  Six  large  blocks 
of  granite  which  had  been  landed,  by  way  of  experiment,  on  the  ist 
instant,  were  now  removed  from  their  places  and,  by  the  force  of  the 
sea,  thrown  over  a  rising  ledge  into  a  hole  at  the  distance  of  twelve  or 
fifteen  paces  from  the  place  on  which  they  had  been  landed.  This 
was  a  pretty  good  evidence  both  of  the  violence  of  the  storm  and  the 
agitation  of  the  sea  upon  the  rock.  The  safety  of  the  smith's  forge 
was  always  an  object  of  essential  regard.  The  ash-pan  of  the  hearth 
or  fireplace,  with  its  weighty  cast-iron  back,  had  been  washed  from 
their  places  of  supposed  security;  the  chains  of  attachment  had  been 
broken,  and  these  ponderous  articles  were  found  at  a  very  considerable 
distance  in  a  hole  on  the  western  side  of  the  rock;  while  the  tools  and 
picks  of  the  Aberdeen  masons  were  scattered  about  in  every  direction. 
It  is  however  remarkable  that  not  a  single  article  was  ultimately  lost. 

This  being  the  night  on  which  the  floating  light  was  advertised  to 
be  lighted,  it  was  accordingly  exhibited,  to  the  great  joy  of  every  one. 

The  writer  was  made  happy  to-day  by  the  return  of  the  Lighthouse  Wednesday 
yacht  from  a  voyage  to  the  Northern  Lighthouses.     Having  immedi-  * 
ately  removed  on  board  of  this  fine  vessel  of  eighty-one  tons  register, 
the  artificers  gladly  followed;  for,  though  they  found  themselves  more 
pinched  for  accommodation  on  board  of  the  yacht,  and  still  more  so  in 
the  Smeaton,  yet  they  greatly  preferred  either  of  these  to  the  Pharos, 
or  floating  light,  on  account  of  her  rolling  motion,  though  in  all  respects 
fitted  up  for  their  conveniency. 

The  writer  called  them  to  the  quarter-deck  and  informed  them  that, 
having  been  one  month  afloat,  in  terms  of  their  agreement  they  were 
now  at  liberty  to  return  to  the  workyard  at  Arbroath  if  they  preferred 
this  to  continuing  at  the  Bell  Rock.  But  they  replied  that,  in  the 
prospect  of  soon  getting  the  beacon  erected  upon  the  rock,  and  having 

299 


A  FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

I8°7  made  a  change  from  the  floating  light,  they  were  now  perfectly  recon- 
ciled to  their  situation,  and  would  remain  afloat  till  the  end  of  the 
working  season. 

Thursday,  The  wind  was  at  N.E.  this  morning,  and  though  there  were  only 
light  airs,  yet  there  was  a  pretty  heavy  swell  coming  ashore  upon  the 
rock.  The  boats  landed  at  half-past  seven  o'clock  a.m.,  at  the  creek 
on  the  southern  side  of  the  rock,  marked  Port  Hamilton.  But  as  one 
of  the  boats  was  in  the  act  of  entering  this  creek,  the  seaman  at  the 
bow-oar,  who  had  just  entered  the  service,  having  inadvertently  ex- 
pressed some  fear  from  a  heavy  sea  which  came  rolling  towards  the 
boat,  and  one  of  the  artificers  having  at  the  same  time  looked  round 
and  missed  a  stroke  with  his  oar,  such  a  preponderance  was  thus  given 
to  the  rowers  upon  the  opposite  side  that  when  the  wave  struck  the 
boat  it  threw  her  upon  a  ledge  of  shelving  rocks,  where  the  water  left 
her,  and  she  having  kanted  to  seaward,  the  next  wave  completely 
filled  her  with  water.  After  making  considerable  efforts  the  boat  was 
again  got  afloat  in  the  proper  track  of  the  creek,  so  that  we  landed 
without  any  other  accident  than  a  complete  ducking.  There  being  no 
possibility  of  getting  a  shift  of  clothes,  the  artificers  began  with  all 
speed  to  work,  so  as  to  bring  themselves  into  heat,  while  the  writer 
and  his  assistants  kept  as  much  as  possible  in  motion.  Having  re- 
mained more  than  an  hour  upon  the  rock,  the  boats  left  it  at  half-past 
nine;  and,  after  getting  on  board,  the  writer  recommended  to  the  arti- 
ficers, as  the  best  mode  of  getting  into  a  state  of  comfort,  to  ilrip  off 
their  wet  clothes  and  go  to  bed  for  an  hour  or  two.  No  further  incon- 
veniency  was  felt,  and  no  one  seemed  to  complain  of  the  affection 
called  "catching  cold." 

Friday,  An  important  occurrence  connected  with  the  operations  of  this  season 
was  the  arrival  of  the  Stneaton  at  four  p.m.,  having  in  tow  the  six 
principal  beams  of  the  beacon-house,  together  with  all  the  stanchions 
and  other  work  on  board  for  fixing  it  on  the  rock.  The  mooring  of  the 
floating  light  was  a  great  point  gained,  but  in  the  erection  of  the  bea- 
con at  this  late  period  of  the  season  new  difficulties  presented  them- 
selves. The  success  of  such  an  undertaking  at  any  season  was  pre- 
carious, because  a  single  day  of  bad  weather  occurring  before  the 
necessary  fixtures  could  be  made  might  sweep  the  whole  apparatus 
from  the  rock.  Notwithstanding  these  difficulties,  the  writer  had  de- 
termined to  make  the  trial,  although  he  could  almost  have  wished, 

300 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

upon  looking  at  the  state  of  the  clouds  and  the  direction  of  the  wind,        18°7 
that  the  apparatus  for  the  beacon  had  been  still  in  the  workyard. 

The  main  beams  of  the  beacon  were  made  up  in  two  separate  rafts,  Saturday, 
fixed  with  bars  and  bolts  of  iron.  One  of  these  rafts,  not  being  imme-  "9 
diately  wanted,  was  left  astern  of  the  floating  light,  and  the  other  was 
kept  in  tow  by  the  Smeaton,  at  the  buoy  nearest  to  the  rock.  The 
Lighthouse  yacht  rode  at  another  buoy  with  all  hands  on  board  that 
could  possibly  be  spared  out  of  the  floating-light.  The  party  of  arti- 
ficers and  seamen  which  landed  on  the  rock  counted  altogether  forty 
in  number.  At  half-past  eight  o'clock  a  derrick,  or  mast  of  thirty  feet 
in  height,  was  erected  and  properly  supported  with  guy-ropes,  for  sus- 
pending the  block  for  raising  the  first  principal  beam  of  the  beacon; 
and  a  winch  machine  was  also  bolted  down  to  the  rock  for  working 
the  purchase-tackle. 

Upon  raising  the  derrick,  all  hands  on  the  rock  spontaneously  gave 
three  hearty  cheers,  as  a  favourable  omen  of  out  future  exertions  in 
pointing  out  more  permanently  the  position  of  the  rock.  Even  to  this 
single  spar  of  timber,  could  it  be  preserved,  a  drowning  man  might  lay 
hold.  When  the  Smeaton  drifted  on  the  2nd  of  this  month  such  a 
spar  would  have  been  sufficient  to  save  us  till  she  could  have  come  to 
our  relief. 

The  wind  this  morning  was  variable,  but  the  weather  continued  ex-  Sunday, 

loth  bept 

tremely  favourable  for  the  operations  throughout  the  whole  day.  At  six 
a.m.  the  boats  were  in  motion,  and  the  raft,  consisting  of  four  of  the 
six  principal  beams  of  the  beacon-house,  each  measuring  about  sixteen 
inches  square,  and  fifty  feet  in  length,  was  towed  to  the  rock,  where  it 
was  anchored,  that  it  might  ground  upon  it  as  the  water  ebbed.  The 
sailors  and  artificers,  including  all  hands,  to-day  counted  no  fewer  than 
fifty-two,  being  perhaps  the  greatest  number  of  persons  ever  collected 
upon  the  Bell  Rock.  It  was  early  in  the  tide  when  the  boats  reached 
the  rock,  and  the  men  worked  a  considerable  time  up  to  their  middle  in 
writer,  every  one  being  more  eager  than  his  neighbour  to  be  useful. 
Even  the  four  artificers  who  had  hitherto  declined  working  on  Sunday 
were  to-day  most  zealous  in  their  exertions.  They  had  indeed  become 
so  convinced  of  the  precarious  nature  and  necessity  of  the  work  that 
they  never  afterwards  absented  themselves  from  the  rock  on  Sunday 
when  a  landing  was  practicable. 

Having  made  fast  a  piece  of  very  good  new  line,  at  about  two-thirds 
301 


A   FAMILY  OF   ENGINEERS 

from  the  lower  end  of  one  of  the  beams,  the  purchase-tackle  of  the 
derrick  was  hooked  into  the  turns  of  the  line,  and  it  was  speedily  raised 
by  the  number  of  men  on  the  rock  and  the  power  of  the  winch  tackle. 
When  this  log  was  lifted  to  a  sufficient  height,  its  foot,  or  lower  end, 
was  stepped  into  the  spot  which  had  been  previously  prepared  for  it. 
Two  of  the  great  iron  stanchions  were  then  set  into  their  respective 
holes  on  each  side  of  the  beam,  when  a  rope  was  passed  round  them 
and  the  beam,  to  prevent  it  from  slipping  till  it  could  be  more  perma- 
nently fixed.  The  derrick,  or  upright  spar  used  for  carrying  the  tackle 
to  raise  the  first  beam,  was  placed  in  such  a  position  as  to  become  use- 
ful for  supporting  the  upper  end  of  it,  which  now  became,  in  its  turn, 
the  prop  of  the  tackle  for  raising  the  second  beam.  The  whole  diffi- 
culty of  this  operation  was  in  the  raising  and  propping  of  the  first 
beam,  which  became  a  convenient  derrick  for  raising  the  second,  these 
again  a  pair  of  shears  for  lifting  the  third,  and  the  shears  a  triangle  for 
raising  the  fourth.  Having  thus  got  four  of  the  six  principal  beams 
set  on  end,  it  required  a  considerable  degree  of  trouble  to  get  their  up- 
per ends  to  fit.  Here  they  formed  the  apex  of  a  cone,  and  were  all  to- 
gether mortised  into  a  large  piece  of  beechwood,  and  secured,  for  the 
present,  with  ropes,  in  a  temporary  manner.  During  the  short  period 
of  one  tide  all  that  could  further  be  done  for  their  security  was  to  put 
a  single  screw-bolt  through  the  great  kneed  bats  or  stanchions  on  each 
side  of  the  beams,  and  screw  the  nut  home. 

In  this  manner  these  four  principal  beams  were  erected,  and  left  in  a 
pretty  secure  state.  The  men  had  commenced  while  there  was  about 
two  or  three  feet  of  water  upon  the  side  of  the  beacon,  and  as  the  sea 
was  smooth  they  continued  the  work  equally  long  during  flood-tide. 
Two  of  the  boats  being  left  at  the  rock  to  take  off  the  joiners,  who 
were  busily  employed  on  the  upper  parts  till  two  o'clock  p.m.,  this 
tide's  work  may  be  said  to  have  continued  for  about  seven  hours,  which 
was  the  longest  that  had  hitherto  been  got  upon  the  rock  by  at  least 
three  hours. 

When  the  first  boats  left  the  rock  with  the  artificers  employed  on  the 
lower  part  of  the  work  during  the  flood-tide,  the  beacon  had  quite  a 
novel  appearance.  The  beams  erected  formed  a  common  base  of  about 
thirty-three  feet,  meeting  at  the  top,  which  was  about  forty-five  feet 
above  the  rock,  and  here  half  a  dozen  of  the  artificers  were  still  at 
work.  After  clearing  the  rock  the  boats  made  a  stop,  when  thre6 

302 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

hearty  cheers  were  given,  which  were  returned  with  equal  goodwill  by        i*" 
those  upon  the  beacon,  from  the  personal  interest  which  every  one  felt 
in  the  prosperity  of  this  work,  so  intimately  connected  with  his  safety. 

All  hands  having  returned  to  their  respective  ships,  they  got  a  shift 
of  dry  clothes  and  some  refreshment.  Being  Sunday,  they  were  after- 
wards convened  by  signal  on  board  of  the  Lighthouse  yacht,  when 
prayers  were  read;  for  every  heart  upon  this  occasion  felt  gladness,  and 
every  mind  was  disposed  to  be  thankful  for  the  happy  and  successful 
termination  of  the  operations  of  this  day. 

The  remaining  two  principal  beams  were  erected  in  the  course  of  Monday, 
this  tide,  which,  with  the  assistance  of  those  set  up  yesterday,  was  " 
found  to  be  a  very  simple  operation. 

The  six  principal  beams  of  the  beacon  were  thus  secured,  at  least  in 
a  temporary  manner,  in  the  course  of  two  tides,  or  in  the  short  space  of 
about  eleven  hours  and  a  half.  Such  is  the  progress  that  may  be  made 
when  active  hands  and  willing  minds  set  properly  to  work  in  operations 
of  this  kind.  Having  now  got  the  weighty  part  of  this  work  over,  Tuesday, 
and  being  thereby  relieved  of  the  difficulty  both  of  landing  and  vic- 
tualling such  a  number  of  men,  the  Smeaton  could  now  be  spared,  and 
she  was  accordingly  despatched  to  Arbroath  for  a  supply  of  water  and 
provisions,  and  carried  with  her  six  of  the  artificers  who  could  best  be 
spared. 

In  going  out  of  the  eastern  harbour,  the  boat  which  the  writer  steered  Wednesday, 
shipped  a  sea,  that  filled  her  about  one-third  with  water.     She  had  *J 
also  been  hid  for  a  short  time,  by  the  waves  breaking  upon  the  rock, 
from  the  sight  of  the  crew  of  the  preceding  boat,  who  were  much 
alarmed  for  our  safety,  imagining  for  a  time  that  she  had  gone  down. 

The  Smeaton  returned  from  Arbroath  this  afternoon,  but  there  was 
so  much  sea  that  she  could  not  be  made  fast  to  her  moorings,  and  the 
vessel  was  obliged  to  return  to  Arbroath  without  being  able  either  to 
deliver  the  provisions  or  take  the  artificers  on  board.  The  Light- 
house yacht  was  also  soon  obliged  to  follow  her  example,  as  the  sea 
was  breaking  heavily  over  her  bows.  After  getting  two  reefs  in  the 
mainsail,  and  the  third  or  storm-jib  set,  the  wind  being  S.W.,  she  bent 
to  windward,  though  blowing  a  hard  gale,  and  got  into  St.  Andrews 
Bay,  where  we  passed  the  night  under  the  lee  of  Fifeness. 

At  two  o'clock  this  morning  we  were  in  St.  Andrews  Bay,  standing  Thursday, 
off  and  on  shore,  with  strong  gales  of  wind  at  S.W.;  at  seven  we  ** 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1807  Were  off  the  entrance  of  the  Tay;  at  eight  stood  towards  the  rock,  and 
at  ten  passed  to  leeward  of  it,  but  could  not  attempt  a  landing.  The 
beacon,  however,  appeared  to  remain  in  good  order,  and  by  six  p.m. 
the  vessel  had  again  beaten  up  to  St.  Andrews  Bay,  and  got  into  some- 
what smoother  water  for  the  night. 

Friday,  At  seven  o'clock  bore  away  for  the  Bell  Rock,  but  finding  a  heavy 
i5th  sept.  sea  runnjng  on  jt  were  unable  to  land.  The  writer,  however,  had  the 
satisfaction  to  observe,  with  his  telescope,  that  everything  about  the 
beacon  appeared  entire  ;  and  although  the  sea  had  a  most  frightful  ap- 
pearance, yet  it  was  the  opinion  of  every  one  that,  since  the  erection 
of  the  beacon,  the  Bell  Rock  was  divested  of  many  of  its  terrors,  and 
had  it  been  possible  to  have  got  the  boats  hoisted  out  and  manned,  it 
might  have  even  been  found  practicable  to  land.  At  six  it  blew  so 
hard  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  strike  the  topmast  and  take  in  a 
third  reef  of  the  mainsail,  and  under  this  low  canvas  we  soon  reached 
St.  Andrews  Bay,  and  got  again  under  the  lee  of  the  land  for  the  night. 
The  artificers,  being  sea-hardy,  were  quite  reconciled  to  their  quarters 
on  board  of  the  Lighthouse  yacht;  but  it  is  believed  that  hardly  any 
consideration  would  have  induced  them  again  to  take  up  their  abode 
in  the  floating  light. 

Saturday,  At  daylight  the  yacht  steered  towards  the  Bell  Rock,  and  at  eight 
a.m.  made  fast  to  her  moorings;  at  ten,  all  hands,  to  the  amount  of 
thirty,  landed,  when  the  writer  had  the  happiness  to  find  that  the 
beacon  had  withstood  the  violence  of  the  gale  and  the  heavy  breach 
of  sea,  everything  being  found  in  the  same  state  in  which  it  had  been 
left  on  the  2ist.  The  artificers  were  now  enabled  to  work  upon  the 
rock  throughout  the  whole  day,  both  at  low  and  high  water,  but  it 
required  the  strictest  attention  to  the  state  of  the  weather,  in  case  of 
their  being  overtaken  with  a  gale,  which  might  prevent  the  possibility 
of  getting  them  off  the  rock. 

Two  somewhat  memorable  circumstances  in  the  annals  of  the  Bell 
Rock  attended  the  operations  of  this  day  :  one  was  the  removal  of  Mr. 
James  Dove,  the  foreman  smith,  with  his  apparatus,  from  the  rock  to 
the  upper  part  of  the  beacon,  where  the  forge  was  now  erected  on  a 
temporary  platform,  laid  on  the  cross  beams  or  upper  framing.  The 
other  was  the  artificers  having  dined  for  the  first  time  upon  the  rock, 
their  dinner  being  cooked  on  board  of  the  yacht,  and  sent  to  them  by 
one  of  the  boats.  But  what  afforded  the  greatest  happiness  and  relief 

504 


THE   BUILDING   OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

was  the  removal  of  the  large  bellows,  which  had  all  along  been  a  source        '807 
of  much  trouble  and  perplexity,  by  their  hampering  and  incommoding 
the  boat  which  carried  the  smiths  and  their  apparatus. 

The  wind  being  west  to-day,  the  weather  was  very  favourable  for  Saturday. 
operations  at  the  rock,  and  during  the  morning  and  evening  tides,  with  Jr 
the  aid  of  torch-light,  the  masons  had  seven  hours'  work  upon  the  site 
of  the  building.  The  smiths  and  joiners,  who  landed  at  half-past  six 
a.m.,  did  not  leave  the  rock  till  a  quarter-past  eleven  p.m.,  having 
been  at  work,  with  little  intermission,  for  sixteen  hours  and  three-quar- 
ters. When  the  water  left  the  rock,  they  were  employed  at  the  lower 
parts  of  the  beacon,  and  as  the  tide  rose  or  fell,  they  shifted  the  place 
of  their  operations.  From  these  exertions,  the  fixing  and  securing  of 
the  beacon  made  rapid  advancement,  as  the  men  were  now  landed  in 
the  morning,  and  remained  throughout  the  day.  But,  as  a  sudden 
change  of  weather  might  have  prevented  their  being  taken  off  at  the 
proper  time  of  tide,  a  quantity  of  bread  and  water  was  always  kept  on 
the  beacon. 

During  this  period  of  working  at  the  beacon  all  the  day,  and  often  a 
great  part  of  the  night,  the  writer  was  much  on  board  of  the  tender ; 
but,  while  the  masons  could  work  on  the  rock,  and  frequently  also 
while  it  was  covered  by  the  tide,  he  remained  on  the  beacon  ;  espe- 
cially during  the  night,  as  he  made  a  point  of  being  on  the  rock  to  the 
latest  hour,  and  was  generally  the  last  person  who  stepped  into  the 
boat.  He  had  laid  this  down  as  part  of  his  plan  of  procedure  ;  and  in 
this  way  had  acquired,  in  the  course  of  the  first  season,  a  pretty  com- 
plete knowledge  and  experience  of  what  could  actually  be  done  at  the 
Bell  Rock,  under  all  circumstances  of  the  weather.  By  this  means  also 
his  assistants,  and  the  artificers  and  mariners,  got  into  a  systematic 
habit  of  proceeding  at  the  commencement  of  the  work,  which,  it  is  be- 
lieved, continued  throughout  the  whole  of  the  operations. 

The  external  part  of  the  beacon  was  now  finished,  with  its  supports  Sunday, 
and  bracing-chains,  and  whatever  else  was  considered  necessary  for  its  4 
stability,  in  so  far  as  the  season  would  permit ;  and  although  much 
was  still  wanting  to  complete  this  fabric,  yet  it  was  in  such  a  state  that 
it  could  be  left  without  much  fear  of  the  consequences  of  a  storm.     The 
painting  of  the  upper  part  was  nearly  finished  this  afternoon  ;  and  the 
Smeaton  had  brought  off  a  quantity  of  brushwood  and  other  articles, 
for  the  purpose  of  heating  or  charring  the  lower  part  of  the  principal 

305 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

ifc>7  beams,  before  bwng  laid  over  with  successive  coats  of  boiling  pitch, 
to  the  height  of  from  eight  to  twelve  feet,  or  as  high  as  the  rise  of 
spring-tides.  A  small  flagstaff  having  also  been  erected  to-day,  a  flag 
was  displayed  for  the  first  time  from  the  beacon,  by  which  its  perspec- 
tive effect  was  greatly  improved.  On  this,  as  on  all  like  occasions  at  the 
Bell  Rock,  three  hearty  cheers  were  given  ;  and  the  steward  served  out 
a  dram  of  rum  to  all  hands,  while  the  Lighthouse  yacht,  Smeaton,  and 
floating  light,  hoisted  their  colours  in  compliment  to  the  erection. 

Monday,  In  the  afternoon,  and  just  as  the  tide's  work  was  over,  Mr.  John 
Rennie,  engineer,  accompanied  by  his  son  Mr.  George,  on  their  way  to 
the  harbour  works  of  Fraserburgh,  in  Aberdeenshire,  paid  a  visit  to  the 
Bell  Rock,  in  a  boat  from  Arbroath.  It  being  then  too  late  in  the  tide 
for  landing,  they  remained  on  board  of  the  Lighthouse  yacht  all  night, 
when  the  writer,  who  had  now  been  secluded  from  society  for  several 
weeks,  enjoyed  much  of  Mr.  Rennie's  interesting  conversation,  both  on 
general  topics,  and  professionally  upon  the  progress  of  the  Bell  Rock 
works,  on  which  he  was  consulted  as  chief  engineer. 

Tuetdiy,  The  artificers  landed  this  morning  at  nine,  after  which  one  of  the 
boats  returned  to  the  ship  for  the  writer  and  Messrs.  Rennie,  who, 
upon  landing,  were  saluted  with  a  display  of  the  colours  from  the  bea- 
con and  by  three  cheers  from  the  workmen.  Everything  was  now 
in  a  prepared  state  for  leaving  the  rock,  and  giving  up  the  works  afloat 
for  this  season,  excepting  some  small  articles,  which  would  still  occupy 
the  smiths  and  joiners  for  a  few  days  longer.  They  accordingly  shifted 
on  board  of  the  Smeaton,  while  the  yacht  left  the  rock  for  Arbroath, 
with  Messrs.  Rennie,  the  writer,  and  the  remainder  of  the  artificers. 
But,  before  taking  leave,  the  steward  served  out  a  farewell  glass, 
when  three  hearty  cheers  were  given,  and  an  earnest  wish  expressed 
that  everything,  in  the  spring  of  1808,  might  be  found  in  the  same  state 
of  good  order  as  it  was  now  about  to  be  left. 


II 

OPERATIONS  OF  1808 

1808  The  writer  sailed  from  Arbroath   at  one  a.m.  in  the   Lighthouse 

Mth  Feb.  vacnt-     At  seven  the  floating  light  was  hailed,  and  all  on  board  found 

to  be  well.     The  crew  were  observed  to  have  a  very  healthy-like  ap- 

506 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

pearance,  and  looked  better  than  at  the  close  of  the  works  upon  the  I8°* 
rock.  They  seemed  only  to  regret  one  thing,  which  was  the  secession 
of  their  cook,  Thomas  Elliot — not  on  account  of  his  professional  skill, 
but  for  his  facetious  and  curious  manner.  Elliot  had  something  pecu- 
liar in  his  history,  and  was  reported  by  his  comrades  to  have  seen  bet- 
ter days.  He  was,  however,  happy  with  his  situation  on  board  of  the 
floating  light,  and,  having  a  taste  for  music,  dancing,  and  acting  plays, 
he  contributed  much  to  the  amusement  of  the  ship's  company  in  their 
dreary  abode  during  the  winter  months.  He  had  also  recommended 
himself  to  their  notice  as  a  good  shipkeeper,  for  as  it  did  not  answer 
Elliot  to  go  often  ashore,  he  had  always  given  up  his  turn  of  leave  to 
his  neighbours.  At  his  own  desire  he  was  at  length  paid  off,  when  he 
had  a  considerable  balance  of  wages  to  receive,  which  he  said  would 
be  sufficient  to  carry  him  to  the  West  Indies,  and  he  accordingly  took 
leave  of  the  Lighthouse  service. 

At  daybreak  the  Lighthouse  yacht,  attended  by  a  boat  from  the  Tuesday, 
floating  light,  again  stood  towards  the  Bell  Rock.  The  weather  felt 
extremely  cold  this  morning,  the  thermometer  being  at  34  degrees,  with 
the  wind  at  east,  accompanied  by  occasional  showers  of  snow,  and  the 
marine  barometer  indicated  29.80.  At  half-past  seven  the  sea  ran  with 
such  force  upon  the  rock  that  it  seemed  doubtful  if  a  landing  could  be 
effected.  At  half-past  eight,  when  it  was  fairly  above  water,  the 
writer  took  his  place  in  the  floating  light's  boat  with  the  artificers, 
while  the  yacht's  boat  followed,  according  to  the  general  rule  of  having 
two  boats  afloat  in  landing  expeditions  of  this  kind,  that,  in  case  of 
accident  to  one  boat,  the  other  might  assist.  In  several  unsuccessful 
attempts  the  boats  were  beat  back  by  the  breach  of  the  sea  upon  the 
rock.  On  the  eastern  side  it  separated  into  two  distinct  waves,  which 
came  with  a  sweep  round  to  the  western  side,  where  they  met;  and  at 
the  instant  of  their  confluence  the  water  rose  in  spray  to  a  considerable 
height.  Watching  what  the  sailors  term  a  smooth,  we  caught  a  fa- 
vourable opportunity,  and  in  a  very  dexterous  manner  the  boats  were 
rowed  between  the  two  seas,  and  made  a  favourable  landing  at  the 
western  creek. 

At  the  latter  end  of  last  season,  as  was  formerly  noticed,  the  beacon 
was  painted  white,  and  from  the  bleaching  of  the  weather  and  the 
sprays  of  the  sea  the  upper  parts  were  kept  clean ;  but  within  the  range 
of  the  tide  the  principal  beams  were  observed  to  be  thickly  coated  with 

307 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

a  green  stuff,  the  conferva  of  botanists.  Notwithstanding  the  intrusion 
of  these  works,  which  had  formerly  banished  the  numerous  seals  that 
played  about  the  rock,  they  were  now  seen  in  great  numbers,  having 
been  in  an  almost  undisturbed  state  for  six  months.  It  had  now  also, 
for  the  first  time,  got  some  inhabitants  of  the  feathered  tribe :  in  partic- 
ular the  scarth  or  cormorant,  and  the  large  herring-gull,  had  made  the 
beacon  a  resting-place,  from  its  vicinity  to  their  fishing-grounds.  About 
a  dozen  of  these  birds  had  rested  upon  the  cross-beams,  which,  in  some 
places,  were  coated  with  their  dung;  and  their  flight,  as  the  boats  ap- 
proached, was  a  very  unlooked-for  indication  of  life  and  habitation  on 
the  Bell  Rock,  conveying  the  momentary  idea  of  the  conversion  of  this 
fatal  rock,  from  being  a  terror  to  the  mariner,  into  a  residence  of  man 
and  a  safeguard  to  shipping. 

Upon  narrowly  examining  the  great  iron  stanchions  with  which  the 
beams  were  fixed  to  the  rock,  the  writer  had  the  satisfaction  of  finding 
that  there  was  not  the  least  appearance  of  working  or  shifting  at  any 
of  the  joints  or  places  of  connection;  and,  excepting  the  loosening  of 
the  bracing-chains,  everything  was  found  in  the  same  entire  state  in 
which  it  had  been  left  in  the  month  of  October.  This,  in  the  estima- 
tion of  the  writer,  was  a  matter  of  no  small  importance  to  the  future 
success  of  the  work.  He  from  that  moment  saw  the  practicability  and 
propriety  of  fitting  up  the  beacon,  not  only  as  a  place  of  refuge  in  case 
of  accident  to  the  boats  in  landing,  but  as  a  residence  for  the  artificers 
during  the  working  months. 

While  upon  the  top  of  the  beacon  the  writer  was  reminded  by  the 
landing-master  that  the  sea  was  running  high,  and  that  it  would  be 
necessary  to  set  off  while  the  rock  afforded  anything  like  shelter  to  the 
boats,  which  by  this  time  had  been  made  fast  by  a  long  line  to  the 
beacon,  and  rode  with  much  agitation,  each  requiring  two  men  with 
boat-hooks  to  keep  them  from  striking  each  other,  or  from  ranging  up 
against  the  beacon.  But  even  under  these  circumstances  the  greatest 
confidence  was  felt  by  every  one,  from  the  security  afforded  by  this 
temporary  erection.  For,  supposing  that  the  wind  had  suddenly  in- 
creased to  a  gale,  and  that  it  had  been  found  unadvisable  to  go  into 
the  boats;  or,  supposing  they  had  drifted  or  sprung  a  leak  from  striking 
upon  the  rocks;  in  any  of  these  possible  and  not  at  all  improbable 
cases,  those  who  might  thus  have  been  left  upon  the  rock  had  now 
something  to  lay  hold  of,  and,  though  occupying  this  dreary  habitation 

308 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

of  the  sea-gull  and  the  cormorant,  affording  only  bread  and  water,  yet        l8°8 
life  would  be  preserved,  and  the  mind  would  still  be  supported  by  the 
hope  of  being  ultimately  relieved. 

On  the  25th  of  May  the  writer  embarked  at  Arbroath,  on  board  of  Wednesday, 
the  Sir  Joseph  Banks,  for  the  Bell  Rock,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Logan  *5t 
senior,  foreman  builder,  with  twelve  masons,  and  two  smiths,  together 
with  thirteen  seamen,  including  the  master,  mate,  and  steward. 

Mr.  James  Wilson,  now  commander  of  the  Pharos  floating  light,  and  Thuriday, 
landing-master,  in  the  room  of  Mr.  Sinclair,  who  had  left  the  service,     '      ay' 
came  into  the  writer's  cabin  this  morning  at  six  o'clock,  and  intimated 
that  there  was  a  good  appearance  of  landing  on  the  rock.     Everything 
being  arranged,  both  boats  proceeded  in  company,  and  at  eight  a.m. 
they  reached  the  rock.     The  lighthouse   colours  were   immediately 
hoisted  upon  the  flagstaff  of  the  beacon,  a  compliment  which  was  duly 
returned  by  the  tender  and  floating  light,  when  three  hearty  cheers 
were  given,  and  a  glass  of  rum  was  served  out  to  all  hands  to  drink 
success  to  the  operations  of  1808. 

This  morning  the  wind  was  at  east,  blowing  a  fresh  gale,  the  weather  Friday, 
being  hazy,  with  a  considerable  breach  of  sea  setting  in  upon  the  rock.  *7th  May 
The  morning  bell  was  therefore  rung,  in  some  doubt  as  to  the  practica- 
bility of  making  a  landing.     After  allowing  the  rock  to  get  fully  up,  or 
to  be  sufficiently  left  by  the  tide,  that  the  boats  might  have  some 
shelter  from  the  range  of  the  sea,  they  proceeded  at  eight  a.m.,  and 
upon  the  whole  made  a  pretty  good  landing;  and  after  two  hours  and 
three-quarters'  work  returned  to  the  ship  in  safety. 

In  the  aftc-noon  the  wind  considerably  increased,  and,  as  a  pretty 
heavy  sea  was  still  running,  the  tender  rode  very  hard,  when  Mr.  Tay- 
lor, the  commander,  found  it  necessary  to  take  ir  the  bowsprit,  and 
strike  the  fore  and  main  topmasts,  that  she  might  ride  more  easily. 
After  consulting  about  the  state  of  the  weather,  it  was  resolved  to  leave 
the  artificers  on  board  this  evening,  and  carry  only  the  smiths  to  the 
rock,  as  the  sharpening  of  the  irons  was  rather  behind,  from  their  being 
so  much  broken  and  blunted  by  the  hard  and  tough  nature  of  the 
rock,  which  became  much  more  compact  and  hard  as  the  depth  of  ex- 
cavation was  increased.  Besides  avoiding  the  risk  of  encumbering  the 
boats  with  a  number  of  men  who  had  not  yet  got  the  full  command 
of  the  oar  in  a  breach  of  sea,  the  writer  had  another  motive  for  leaving 
them  behind.  He  wanted  to  examine  the  site  of  the  building  without 

309 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'808  interruption,  and  to  take  the  comparative  levels  of  the  different  inequali- 
ties of  its  area;  and  as  it  would  have  been  painful  to  have  seen  men 
standing  idle  upon  the  Bell  Rock,  where  all  moved  with  activity,  it 
was  judged  better  to  leave  them  on  board.  The  boats  landed  at  half- 
past  seven  p.m.,  and  the  landing-master,  with  the  seamen,  was  em- 
ployed during  this  tide  in  cutting  the  seaweeds  from  the  several  paths 
leading  to  the  landing-places,  to  render  walking  more  safe,  for,  from 
the  slippery  state  of  the  surface  of  the  rock,  many  severe  tumbles  had 
taken  place.  In  the  meantime  the  writer  took  the  necessary  levels, 
and  having  carefully  examined  the  site  of  the  building  and  considered 
all  its  parts,  it  still  appeared  to  be  necessary  to  excavate  to  the  average 
depth  of  fourteen  inches  over  the  whole  area  of  the  foundation. 

Saturday,  The  wind  still  continued  from  the  eastward  with  a  heavy  swell ;  and 
*y'  to-day  it  was  accompanied  with  foggy  weather  and  occasional  showers 
of  rain.  Notwithstanding  this,  such  was  the  confidence  which  the 
erection  of  the  beacon  had  inspired  that  the  boats  landed  the  artificers 
on  the  rock  under  very  unpromising  circumstances,  at  half-past  eight, 
and  they  continued  at  work  till  half-past  eleven,  being  a  period  of  three 
hours,  which  was  considered  a  great  tide's  work  in  the  present  low 
state  of  the  foundation.  Three  of  the  masons  on  board  were  so 
afflicted  with  sea-sickness  that  they  had  not  been  able  to  take  any  food 
for  almost  three  days,  and  they  were  literally  assisted  into  the  boats 
this  morning  by  their  companions.  It  was,  however,  not  a  little  sur- 
prising to  see  how  speedily  these  men  revived  upon  landing  on  the 
rock  and  eating  a  little  dulse.  Two  of  them  afterwards  assisted  the 
sailors  in  collecting  the  chips  of  stone  and  carrying  them  out  of  the  way 
of  the  pickmen;  but  the  third  complained  of  a  pain  in  his  head,  and  was 
still  unable  to  do  anything.  Instead  of  returning  to  the  tender  with 
the  boats,  these  three  men  remained  on  the  beacor.  all  day,  and  had 
their  victuals  sent  to  them  along  with  the  smiths'.  From  Mr.  Dove, 
the  foreman  smith,  they  had  much  sympathy,  for  he  preferred  remain- 
ing on  the  beacon  at  all  hazards,  to  be  himself  relieved  from  the  malady 
of  sea-sickness.  The  wind  continuing  high,  with  a  heavy  sea,  and  the 
tide  falling  late,  it  was  not  judged  proper  to  land  the  artificers  this  eve- 
ning, but  in  the  twilight  the  boats  were  sent  to  fetch  the  people  on 
board  who  had  been  left  on  the  rock. 

Sunday,  The  wind  was  from  the  S.W.  to-day,  and  the  signal-bell  rung,  as 

310 


THE   BUILDING   OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

usual,  about  an  hour  before  the  period  for  landing  on  the  rock.  The  »8o' 
writer  was  rather  surprised,  however,  to  hear  the  landing-master  re- 
peatedly call,  "  All  hands  for  the  rock  ! "  and,  coming  on  deck,  he  was 
disappointed  to  find  the  seamen  only  in  the  boats.  Upon  inquiry,  it 
appeared  that  some  misunderstanding  had  taken  place  about  the  wages 
of  the  artificers  for  Sundays.  They  had  preferred  wages  for  seven  days 
statedly  to  the  former  mode  of  allowing  a  day  for  each  tide's  work  on 
Sunday,  as  they  did  not  like  the  appearance  of  working  for  double  or 
even  treble  wages  on  Sunday,  and  would  rather  have  it  understood 
that  their  work  on  that  day  arose  more  from  the  urgency  of  the  case 
than  with  a  view  to  emolument.  This  having  been  judged  creditable 
to  their  religious  feelings,  and  readily  adjusted  to  their  wish,  the  boats 
proceeded  to  the  rock,  and  the  work  commenced  at  nine  a.m. 

Mr.  Francis  Watt  commenced,  with  five  joiners,  to  fit  up  a  tempo-  Monday, 
rary  platform  upon  the  beacon,  about  twenty-five  feet  above  the  high-  *oth  MaT 
est  part  of  the  rock.     This  platform  was  to  be  used  as  the  site  of  the 
smith's  forge,  after  the  beacon  should  be  fitted  up  as  a  barrack;  and 
here  also  the  mortar  was  to  be  mixed  and  prepared  for  the  building, 
and  it  was  accordingly  termed  the  Mortar  Gallery. 

The  landing-master's  crew  completed  the  discharging  from  the 
Smeaton  of  her  cargo  of  the  cast-iron  rails  and  timber.  It  must  not 
here  be  omitted  to  notice  that  the  Smeaton  took  in  ballast  from  the 
Bell  Rock,  consisting  of  the  shivers  or  chips  of  stone  produced  by  the 
workmen  in  preparing  the  site  of  the  building,  which  were  now  ac- 
cumulating in  great  quantities  on  the  rock.  These  the  boats  loaded, 
after  discharging  the  iron.  The  object  in  carrying  off  these  chips,  be- 
sides ballasting  the  vessel,  was  to  get  them  permanently  out  of  the 
way,  as  they  were  apt  to  shift  about  from  place  to  place  with  every 
gale  of  wind;  and  it  often  required  a  considerable  time  to  clear  the 
foundation  a  second  time  of  this  rubbish.  The  circumstance  of  bal- 
lasting a  ship  at  the  Bell  Rock  afforded  great  entertainment,  especially 
to  the  sailors;  and  it  was  perhaps  with  truth  remarked  that  the  Smea- 
ton was  the  first  vessel  that  had  ever  taken  on  board  ballast  at  the  Bell 
Rock.  Mr.  Pool,  the  commander  of  this  vessel,  afterwards  acquainted 
the  writer  that,  when  the  ballast  was  landed  upon  the  quay  at  Leith, 
many  persons  carried  away  specimens  of  it,  as  part  of  a  cargo  from  the 
Bell  Rock;  when  he  added,  that  such  was  the  interest  excited,  from  the 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1808  number  of  specimens  carried  away,  that  some  of  his  friends  suggested 
that  he  should  have  sent  the  whole  to  the  Cross  of  Edinburgh,  where 
each  piece  might  have  sold  for  a  penny. 

TuesAay'  'n  ^e  evemng  *ne  boats  went  to  the  rock,  and  brought  the  joiners 
and  smiths,  and  their  sickly  companions,  on  board  of  the  tender. 
These  also  brought  with  them  two  baskets  full  of  fish,  which  they  had 
caught  at  high-water  from  the  beacon,  reporting,  at  the  same  time,  to 
their  comrades,  that  the  fish  were  swimming  in  such  numbers  over  the 
rock  at  high-water  that  it  was  completely  hid  from  their  sight,  and 
nothing  seen  but  the  movement  of  thousands  of  fish.  They  were  al- 
most exclusively  of  the  species  called  the  podlie,  or  young  coal-fish. 
This  discovery,  made  for  the  first  time  to-day  by  the  workmen,  was 
considered  fortunate,  as  an  additional  circumstance  likely  to  produce 
an  inclination  among  the  artificers  to  take  up  their  residence  in  the 
beacon,  when  it  came  to  be  fitted  up  as  a  barrack. 

Tueid«y,  At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  ship's  bell  was  rung  as  the  sig- 
une'  nal  for  landing  at  the  rock.  When  the  landing  was  to  be  made  before 
breakfast,  it  was  customary  to  give  each  of  the  artificers  and  seamen  a 
dram  and  a  biscuit,  and  coffee  was  prepared  by  the  steward  for  the 
cabins.  Exactly  at  four  o'clock  the  whole  party  landed  from  three 
boats,  including  one  of  those  belonging  to  the  floating  light,  with  a 
part  of  that  ship's  crew,  which  always  attended  the  works  in  moderate 
weather.  The  landing-master's  boat,  called  the  Seaman,  but  more 
commonly  called  the  Lifeboat,  took  the  lead.  The  next  boat,  called 
the  Mason,  was  generally  steered  by  the  writer;  while  the  floating 
light's  boat,  Pharos,  was  under  the  management  of  the  boatswain  of 
that  ship. 

Having  now  so  considerable  a  party  of  workmen  and  sailors  on  the 
rock,  it  may  be  proper  here  to  notice  how  their  labours  were  directed. 
Preparations  having  been  made  last  month  for  the  erection  of  a  second 
forge  upon  the  beacon,  the  smiths  commenced  their  operations  both 
upon  the  lower  and  higher  platforms.  They  were  employed  in  sharp- 
ening the  picks  and  irons  for  the  masons,  and  in  making  bats  and  other 
apparatus  of  various  descriptions  connected  with  the  fitting  of  the  rail- 
ways. The  landing-master's  crew  were  occupied  in  assisting  the  mill- 
wrights in  laying  the  railways  to  hand.  Sailors,  of  all  other  descrip- 
tions of  men,  are  the  most  accommodating  in  the  use  of  their  hands. 
They  worked  freely  with  the  boring-irons,  and  assisted  in  all  the  oper- 

312 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

ations  of  the  railways,  acting  by  turns  as  boatmen,  seamen,  and  arti- 
ficers.  We  had  no  such  character  on  the  Bell  Rock  as  the  common 
labourer.  All  the  operations  of  this  department  were  cheerfully  under- 
taken by  the  seamen,  who,  both  on  the  rock  and  on  shipboard,  were 
the  inseparable  companions  of  every  work  connected  with  the  erection 
of  the  Bell  Rock  Lighthouse.  It  will  naturally  be  supposed  that  about 
twenty-five  masons,  occupied  with  their  picks  in  executing  and  pre- 
paring the  foundation  of  the  lighthouse,  in  the  course  of  a  tide  of 
about  three  hours,  would  make  a  considerable  impression  upon  an 
area  even  of  forty-two  feet  in  diameter.  But  in  proportion  as  the 
foundation  was  deepened,  the  rock  was  found  to  be  much  more  hard 
and  difficult  to  work,  while  the  baling  and  pumping  of  water  became 
much  more  troublesome.  A  joiner  was  kept  almost  constantly  em- 
ployed in  fitting  the  picks  to  their  handles,  which,  as  well  as  the 
points  to  the  irons,  were  very  frequently  broken. 

The  Bell  Rock  this  morning  presented  by  far  the  most  busy  and  ac- 
tive appearance  it  had  exhibited  since  the  erection  of  the  principal 
beams  of  the  beacon.  The  surface  of  the  rock  was  crowded  with  men, 
the  two  forges  flaming,  the  one  above  the  other,  upon  the  beaconi 
while  the  anvils  thundered  with  the  rebounding  noise  of  their  wooden 
supports,  and  formed  a  curious  contrast  with  the  occasional  clamour  of 
the  surges.  The  wind  was  westerly,  and  the  weather  being  extremely 
agreeable,  as  soon  after  breakfast  as  the  tide  had  sufficiently  over- 
flowed the  rock  to  float  the  boats  over  it,  the  smiths,  with  a  number 
of  the  artificers,  returned  to  the  beacon,  carrying  their  fishing-tackle 
along  with  them.  In  the  course  of  the  forenoon  the  beacon  exhibited 
a  still  more  extraordinary  appearance  than  the  rock  had  done  in  the 
morning.  The  sea  being  smooth,  it  seemed  to  be  afloat  upon  the 
water,  with  a  number  of  men  supporting  themselves  in  all  the  variety 
of  attitude  and  position  :  while,  from  the  upper  part  of  this  wooden 
house,  the  volumes  of  smoke  which  ascended  from  the  forges  gave  the 
whole  a  very  curious  and  fanciful  appearance. 

In  the  course  of  this  tide  it  was  observed  that  a  heavy  swell  was 
setting  in  from  the  eastward,  and  the  appearance  of  the  sky  indicated  a 
change  of  weather,  while  the  wind  was  shifting  about.  The  barome- 
ter also  had  fallen  from  30  in.  to  29.6.  It  was,  therefore,  judged  pru- 
dent to  shift  the  vessel  to  the  S.W.  or  more  distant  buoy.  Her  bow- 
sprit was  also  soon  afterwards  taken  in,  the  topmasts  struck,  and  every- 

3<3 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'8o«  thing  made  snug,  as  seamen  term  it,  for  a  gale.  During  the  course  of 
the  night  the  wind  increased  and  shifted  to  the  eastward,  when  the 
vessel  rolled  very  hard,  and  the  sea  often  broke  over  her  bows  with 
great  force. 

wtdneiday,  Although  the  motion  of  the  tender  was  much  less  than  that  of  the 
floating  light —  at  least  in  regard  to  the  rolling  motion  —  yet  she  sended, 
or  pitched,  much.  Being  also  of  a  very  handsome  build,  and  what 
seamen  term  very  clean  aft,  the  sea  often  struck  her  counter  with  such 
force  that  the  writer,  who  possessed  the  aftermost  cabin,  being  unac- 
customed to  this  new  vessel,  could  not  divest  himself  of  uneasiness ; 
for  when  her  stern  fell  into  the  sea,  it  struck  with  so  much  violence  as 
to  be  more  like  the  resistance  of  a  rock  than  the  sea.  The  water,  at 
the  same  time,  often  rushed  with  great  force  up  the  rudder-case,  and, 
forcing  up  the  valve  of  the  water-closet,  the  floor  of  his  cabin  was  at 
times  laid  under  water.  The  gale  continued  to  increase,  and  the  ves- 
sel rolled  and  pitched  in  such  a  manner  that  the  hawser  by  which  the 
tender  was  made  fast  to  the  buoy  snapped,  and  she  went  adrift.  In 
the  act  of  swinging  round  to  the  wind  she  shipped  a  very  heavy 
sea,  which  greatly  alarmed  the  artificers,  who  imagined  that  we  had 
got  upon  the  rock ;  but  this,  from  the  direction  of  the  wind,  was  im- 
possible. The  writer,  however,  sprung  upon  deck,  where  he  found 
the  sailors  busily  employed  in  rigging  out  the  bowsprit  and  in  set- 
ting sail.  From  the  easterly  direction  of  the  wind,  it  was  considered 
most  advisable  to  steer  for  the  Firth  of  Forth,  and  there  wait  a  change 
of  weather.  At  two  p.m.  we  accordingly  passed  the  Isle  of  May,  at 
six  anchored  in  Leith  Roads,  and  at  eight  the  writer  landed,  when  he 
came  in  upon  his  friends,  who  were  not  a  little  surprised  at  his  unex- 
pected appearance,  which  gave  an  instantaneous  alarm  for  the  safety 
of  things  at  the  Bell  Rock. 

Thunday,  The  wind  still  continued  to  blow  very  hard  at  E.  by  N.,  and  the 
9th  June.  ^f  josep^  ganks  rocje  heavily,  and  even  drifted  with  both  anchors 
ahead,  in  Leith  Roads.  The  artificers  did  not  attempt  to  leave  the 
ship  last  night;  but  there  being  upwards  of  fifty  people  on  board,  and 
the  decks  greatly  lumbered  with  the  two  large  boats,  they  were  in  a 
very  crowded  and  impatient  state  on  board.  But  to-day  they  got 
ashore,  and  amused  themselves  by  walking  about  the  streets  of  Edin- 
burgh, some  in  very  humble  apparel,  from  having  only  the  worst  of 
their  jackets  with  them,  which,  though  quite  suitable  for  their  work, 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

were  hardly  fit  for  public  inspection,  being  not  only  tattered,  but       I8°8 
greatly  stained  with  the  red  colour  of  the  rock. 

To-day  the  wind  was  at  S.E.,  with  light  breezes  and  foggy  weather.  Friday, 
At  six  a.m.  the  writer  again  embarked  for  the  Bell  Rock,  when  the  lothJunet 
vessel  immediately  sailed.     At  eleven  p.m.,  there  being  no  wind,  the 
kedge-anchor  was  let  go  off  Anstruther,  one  of  the  numerous  towns  on 
tbe  coast  of  Fife,  where  we  waited  the  return  of  the  tide. 

At  six  a.m.  the  Sir  Joseph  got  under  weigh,  and  at  eleven  was  again  Saturday, 
made  fast  to  the  southern  buoy  at  the  Bell  Rock.  Though  it  was  now 
late  in  the  tide,  the  writer,  being  anxious  to  ascertain  the  state  of  things 
after  the  gale,  landed  with  the  artificers,  to  the  number  of  forty-four. 
Everything  was  found  in  an  entire  state  ;  but,  as  the  tide  was  nearly 
gone,  only  half  an  hour's  work  had  been  got  when  the  site  of  the 
building  was  overflowed.  In  the  evening  the  boats  again  landed  at 
nine,  and,  after  a  good  tide's  work  of  three  hours  with  torch-light,  the 
work  was  left  off  at  midnight.  To  the  distant  shipping  the  appear- 
ance of  things  under  night  on  the  Bell  Rock,  when  the  work  was 
going  forward,  must  have  been  very  remarkable,  especially  to  those 
who  were  strangers  to  the  operations.  Mr.  John  Reid,  principal  light- 
keeper,  who  also  acted  as  master  of  the  floating  light  during  the  work- 
ing months  at  the  rock,  described  the  appearance  of  the  numerous 
lights  situated  so  low  in  the  water,  when  seen  at  the  distance  of  two 
or  three  miles,  as  putting  him  in  mind  of  Milton's  description  of  the 
fiends  in  the  lower  regions,  adding,  "for  it  seems  greatly  to  surpass 
Will-o'-the-wisp,  or  any  of  those  earthly  spectres  of  which  we  have  so 
often  heard." 

From  the  difficulties  attending  the  landing  on  the  rock,  owing  to  Monday, 
the  breach  of  sea  which  had  for  days  past  been  around  it,  the  artificers  J 
showed  some  backwardness  at  getting  into  the  boats  this  morning  ;  but 
after  a  little  explanation  this  was  got  over.  It  was  always  observable 
that  for  some  time  after  anything  like  danger  had  occurred  at  the  rock, 
the  workmen  became  much  more  cautious,  and  on  some  occasions 
their  timidity  was  rather  troublesome.  It  fortunately  happened,  how- 
ever, that  along  with  the  writer's  assistants  and  the  sailors  there  were 
also  some  of  the  artificers  themselves  who  felt  no  such  scruples,  and  in 
this  way  these  difficulties  were  the  more  easily  surmounted.  In  mat- 
ters where  life  is  in  danger  it  becomes  necessary  to  treat  even  un- 
founded prejudices  with  tenderness,  as  an  accident,  under  certain  cir- 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

i»o8  cumstances,  would  not  only  have  been  particularly  painful  to  those 
giving  directions,  but  have  proved  highly  detrimental  to  the  work,  es- 
pecially in  the  early  stages  of  its  advancement. 

At  four  o'clock  fifty-eight  persons  landed  ;  but  the  tides  being  ex- 
tremely languid,  the  water  only  left  the  higher  parts  of  the  rock,  and 
no  work  could  be  done  at  the  site  of  the  building.  A  third  forge  was, 
however,  put  in  operation  during  a  short  time,  for  the  greater  conve- 
niency  of  sharpening  the  picks  and  irons,  and  for  purposes  connected 
with  the  preparations  for  fixing  the  railways  on  the  rock.  The  weather 
towards  the  evening  became  thick  and  foggy,  and  there  was  hardly  a 
breath  of  wind  to  ruffle  the  surface  of  the  water.  Had  it  not,  therefore, 
been  the  noise  from  the  anvils  of  the  smiths  who  had  been  left  on  the 
beacon  throughout  the  day,  which  afforded  a  guide  for  the  boats,  a 
landing  could  not  have  been  attempted  this  evening,  especia'.ly  with 
such  a  company  of  artificers.  This  circumstance  confirmed  the  writer's 
opinion  witii  regard  to  the  propriety  of  connecting  large  bells  to  be 
rung  with  machinery  in  the  lighthouse,  to  be  tolled  day  and  night 
during  the  continuance  of  foggy  weather. 

Thursday,  The  boats  landed  this  evening,  when  the  artificers  had  again  two 
|r  -'une'  hours'  work.  The  weather  still  continuing  very  thick  and  foggy,  more 
difficulty  was  experienced  in  getting  on  board  of  the  vessels  to-night 
than  had  occurred  on  any  previous  occasion,  owing  to  a  light  breeze 
of  wind  which  carried  the  sound  of  the  bell  and  the  other  signals  made 
on  board  of  the  vessels  away  from  the  rock.  Having  fortunately  made 
out  the  position  of  the  sloop  Smeaton  at  the  N.E.  buoy — to  which  we 
were  much  assisted  by  the  barking  of  the  ship's  dog, —  we  parted  with 
the  Smeaton's  boat,  when  the  boats  of  the  tender  took  a  fresh  de- 
parture for  that  vessel,  which  lay  about  half  a  mile  to  the  south-west- 
ward. Yet  such  is  the  very  deceiving  state  of  the  tides,  that,  although 
there  was  a  small  binnacle  and  compass  in  the  landing-master's  boat, 
we  had,  nevertheless,  passed  the  Sir  Joseph  a  good  way,  when,  fortu- 
nately, one  of  the  sailors  catched  the  sound  of  a  blowing  horn.  The 
only  fire-arms  on  board  were  a  pair  of  swivels  of  one-inch  calibre;  but 
it  is  quite  surprising  how  much  the  sound  is  lost  in  foggy  weather,  as 
the  report  was  heard  but  at  a  very  short  distance.  The  sound  from  the 
explosion  of  gunpowder  is  so  instantaneous  that  the  effect  of  the  small 
guns  was  not  so  good  as  either  the  blowing  of  a  horn  or  the  tolling  of  a 
bell,  which  afforded  a  more  constant  and  steady  direction  for  the  pilot. 

516 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

Landed  on  the  rock  with  the  three  boats  belonging  to  the  tender  at  I8°8 
five  p.m.,  and  began  immediately  to  bale  the  water  out  of  the  founda-  6th  July. 
tion-pit  with  a  number  of  buckets,  while  the  pumps  were  also  kept  in 
action  with  relays  of  artificers  and  seamen.  The  work  commenced  up- 
on the  higher  parts  of  the  foundation  as  the  water  left  them,  but  it  was 
now  pretty  generally  reduced  to  a  level.  About  twenty  men  could  be 
conveniently  employed  at  each  pump,  and  it  is  quite  astonishing  in 
how  short  a  time  so  great  a  body  of  water  could  be  drawn  off.  The 
water  in  the  foundation-pit  at  this  time  measured  about  two  feet  in 
depth,  on  an  area  of  forty-two  feet  in  diameter,  and  yet  it  was  drawn 
off  in  the  course  of  about  half  an  hour.  After  this  the  artificers  com- 
menced with  their  picks  and  continued  at  work  for  two  hours  and  a 
half,  some  of  the  sailors  being  at  the  same  time  busily  employed  in 
clearing  the  foundation  of  chips  and  in  conveying  the  irons  to  and  from 
the  smiths  on  the  beacon,  where  they  were  sharpened.  At  eight  o'clock 
the  sea  broke  in  upon  us  and  overflowed  the  foundation-pit,  when  the 
boats  returned  to  the  tender. 

The  landing-master's  bell  rung  this  morning  about  four  o'clock,  and  Thursday, 
at  half-past  five,  the  foundation  being  cleared,  the  work  commenced  7t  y* 
on  the  site  of  the  building.  But  from  the  moment  of  landing,  the 
squad  of  joiners  and  millwrights  was  at  work  upon  the  higher  parts  of 
the  rock  in  laying  the  railways,  while  the  anvils  of  the  smiths  resounded 
on  the  beacon,  and  such  columns  of  smoke  ascended  from  the  forges 
that  they  were  often  mistaken  by  strangers  at  a  distance  for  a  ship  on 
fire.  After  continuing  three  hours  at  work  the  foundation  of  the  build- 
ing was  again  overflowed,  and  the  boats  returned  to  the  ship  at  half-past 
eight  o'clock.  The  masons  and  pickmen  had,  at  this  period,  a  pretty 
long  day  on  board  of  the  tender,  but  the  smiths  and  joiners  were  kept 
constantly  at  work  upon  the  beacon,  the  stability  and  great  conveni- 
ency  of  which  had  now  been  so  fully  shown  that  no  doubt  remained  as 
to  the  propriety  of  fitting  it  up  as  a  barrack.  The  workmen  were  ac- 
cordingly employed,  during  the  period  of  high-water,  in  making  prep- 
arations for  this  purpose. 

The  foundation-pit  now  assumed  the  appearance  of  a  great  platform, 
and  the  late  tides  had  been  so  favourable  that  it  became  apparent  that 
the  first  course,  consisting  of  a  few  irregular  and  detached  stones  for 
making  up  certain  inequalities  in  the  interior  parts  of  the  site  of  the 
building,  might  be  laid  in  the  course  of  the  present  spring-tides.  Hav- 

3'7 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1806  ing  been  enabled  to-day  to  get  the  dimensions  of  the  foundation,  or 
first  stone,  accurately  taken,  a  mould  was  made  of  its  figure,  when  the 
writer  left  the  rock,  after  the  tide's  work  of  this  morning,  in  a  fast  row- 
ing-boat for  Arbroath;  and,  upon  landing,  two  men  were  immediately 
set  to  work  upon  one  of  the  blocks  from  Mylnefield  quarry,  which  was 
prepared  in  the  course  of  the  following  day,  as  the  stone-cutters  relieved 
each  other,  and  worked  both  night  and  day,  so  that  it  was  sent  off  in 
one  of  the  stone-lighters  without  delay. 

Saturday,      The  site  of  the  foundation-stone  was  very  difficult  to  work,  from  its 

91  y'  depth  in  the  rock ;  but  being  now  nearly  prepared,  it  formed  a  very 
agreeable  kind  of  pastime  at  high-water  for  all  hands  to  land  the  stone 
itself  upon  the  rock.  The  landing-master's  crew  and  artificers  accord- 
ingly entered  with  great  spirit  into  this  operation.  The  stone  was 
placed  upon  the  deck  of  the  Hedderwick  praam-boat,  which  had  just 
been  brought  from  Leith,  and  was  decorated  with  colours  for  the  occa- 
sion. Flags  were  also  displayed  from  the  shipping  in  the  offing,  and 
upon  the  beacon.  Here  the  writer  took  his  station  with  the  greater 
part  of  the  artificers,  who  supported  themselves  in  every  possible  posi- 
tion while  the  boats  towed  the  praam  from  her  moorings  and  brought 
her  immediately  over  tbe  site  of  the  building,  where  her  grappling  an- 
chors were  let  go.  The  stone  was  then  lifted  off  the  deck  by  a  tackle 
hooked  into  a  Lewis  bat  inserted  into  it,  when  it  was  gently  lowered 
into  the  water  and  grounded  on  the  site  of  the  building,  amidst  the 
cheering  acclamations  of  about  sixty  persons. 

Sunday,  At  eleven  o'clock  the  foundation-stone  was  laid  to  hand.  It  was  of 
'a  square  form,  containing  about  twenty  cubic  feet,  and  had  the  figures, 
or  date,  of  1808  simply  cut  upon  it  with  a  chisel.  A  derrick,  or  spar 
of  timber,  having  been  erected  at  the  edge  of  the  hole  and  guyed  with 
ropes,  the  stone  was  then  hooked  to  the  tackle  and  lowered  into  its 
place,  when  the  writer,  attended  by  his  assistants  —  Mr.  Peter  Logan, 
Mr.  Francis  Watt,  and  Mr.  James  Wilson,  —  applied  the  square,  the 
level,  and  the  mallet,  and  pronounced  the  following  benediction: 
"  May  the  Great  Architect  of  the  Universe  complete  and  bless  this 
building,"  on  which  three  hearty  cheers  were  given,  and  success  to  the 
future  operations  was  drunk  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm. 

Tuwday,      The  wind  being  at  S.E.  this  evening,  we  had  a  pretty  heavy  swell 

r'  of  sea  upon  the  rock,  and  some  difficulty  attended  our  getting  off  in 

safety,  as  the  boats  got  aground  in  the  creek  and  were  in  danger  of 

318 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

being  upset.  Upon  extinguishing  the  torch-lights,  about  twelve  in  l8oS 
number,  the  darkness  of  the  night  seemed  quite  horrible;  the  water 
being  also  much  charged  with  the  phosphorescent  appearance  which  is 
familiar  to  every  one  on  shipboard,  the  waves,  as  they  dashed  upon 
the  rock,  were  in  some  degree  like  so  much  liquid  flame.  The  scene, 
upon  the  whole,  was  truly  awful! 

In  leaving  the  rock  this  evening,  everything,  after  the  torches  were  wednetday. 
extinguished,  had  the  same  dismal  appearance  as  last  night,  but  so  per-  2?t  •'uly' 
fectly  acquainted  were  the  landing-master  and  his  crew  with  the  posi- 
tion of  things  at  the  rock,  that  comparatively  little  inconveniency  was 
experienced  on  these  occasions  when  the  weather  was  moderate;  such 
is  the  effect  o»~  habit,  even  in  the  most  unpleasant  situations.  If,  for 
example,  it  had  been  proposed  to  a  person  accustomed  to  a  city  life,  at 
once  to  take  up  his  quarters  off  a  sunken  reef  and  land  upon  it  in  boats 
at  all  hours  of  the  night,  the  proposition  must  have  appeared  quite  im- 
practicable and  extravagant  ;  but  this  practice  coming  progressively 
upon  the  artificers,  it  was  ultimately  undertaken  with  the  greatest  alac- 
rity. Notwithstanding  this,  however,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  it 
was  not  till  after  much  labour  and  peril,  and  many  an  anxious  hour, 
that  the  writer  is  enabled  to  state  that  the  site  of  the  Bell  Rock  Light- 
house is  fully  prepared  for  the  first  entire  course  of  the  building. 

The  artificers  landed  this  morning  at  half-past  ten,  and  after  an  hour  Friday, 
and  a  half  s  work  eight  stones  were  laid,  which  completed  the  first  en-  Ilth  Au& 
tire  course  of  the  building,  consisting  of  123  blocks,  the  last  of  which 
was  laid  with  three  hearty  cheers. 

Land  at  nine  a.m.,  and  by  a  quarter-past  twelve  noon  twenty-three  Saturday, 
stones  had  been  laid.     The  works  being  now  somewhat  elevated  by  10 
the  lower  courses,  we  got  quit  of  the  very  serious  inconvenience  of 
pumping  water  to  clear  the  foundation-pit.     This  gave  much  facility  to 
the  operations,  and  was  noticed  with  expressions  of  as  much  happiness 
by  the  artificers  as  the  seamen  had  shown  when  relieved  of  the  contin- 
ual trouble  of  carrying  the  smith's  bellows  off  the  rock  prior  to  the 
erection  of  the  beacon. 

Mr.  Thomas  Macurich,  mate  of  the  Smeaton,  and  James  Scott,  one  wedne«da> 
of  the  crew,  a  young  man  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  immediately  llit  Sept* 
went  into  their  boat  to  make  fast  a  hawser  to  the  ring  in  the  top  of  the 
floating  buoy  of  the  moorings,  and  were  forthwith  to  proceed  to  land 
their  cargo,  so  much  wanted,  at  the  rock.     The  tides  at  this  period 


A   FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

(808  vvere  very  strong,  and  the  mooring-chain,  when  sweeping  the  ground, 
had  caught  hold  of  a  rock  or  piece  of  wreck  by  which  the  chain  was  so 
shortened  that  when  the  tide  flowed  the  buoy  got  almost  under  water, 
and  little  more  than  the  ring  appeared  at  the  surface.  When  Macurich 
and  Scott  were  in  the  act  of  making  the  hawser  fast  to  the  ring,  the 
chain  got  suddenly  disentangled  at  the  bottom,  and  this  large  buoy, 
measuring  about  seven  feet  in  height  and  three  feet  in  diameter  at  the 
middle,  tapering  to  both  ends,  being  what  seamen  term  a  Nun-buoy, 
vaulted  or  sprung  up  with  such  force  that  it  upset  the  boat,  which  in- 
stantly filled  with  water.  Mr.  Macurich,  with  much  exertion,  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  hold  of  the  boat's  gunwale,  still  above  the  surface  of 
the  water,  and  by  this  means  was  saved;  but  the  young  man  Scott 
was  unfortunately  drowned.  He  had  in  all  probability  been  struck 
about  the  head  by  the  ring  of  the  buoy,  for  although  surrounded  with 
the  oars  and  the  thwarts  of  the  boat  which  floated  near  him,  yet  he 
seemed  entirely  to  want  the  power  of  availing  himself  of  such  assist- 
ance, and  appeared  to  be  quite  insensible,  while  Pool,  the  master  of 
the  Smeaton,  called  loudly  to  him ;  and  before  assistance  could  be  got 
from  the  tender,  he  was  carried  away  by  the  strength  of  the  current, 
and  disappeared. 

The  young  man  Scott  was  a  great  favourite  in  the  service,  having 
had  something  uncommonly  mild  and  complaisant  in  his  manner;  and 
his  loss  was  therefore  universally  regretted.  The  circumstances  of  his 
case  were  also  peculiarly  distressing  to  his  mother,  as  her  husband,  who 
was  a  seaman,  had  for  three  years  past  been  confined  to  a  French 
prison,  and  the  deceased  was  the  chief  support  of  the  family.  In  order 
in  some  measure  to  make  up  the  loss  to  the  poor  woman  for  the 
monthly  aliment  regularly  allowed  her  by  her  late  son,  it  was  suggested 
that  a  younger  boy,  a  brother  of  the  deceased,  might  be  taken  into  the 
service.  This  appeared  to  be  rather  a  dejicate  proposition,  but  it  was 
left  to  the  landing-master  to  arrange  according  to  circumstances;  such 
was  the  resignation,  and  at  the  same  time  the  spirit,  of  the  poor 
woman,  that  she  readily  accepted  the  proposal,  and  in  a  few  days  the 
younger  Scott  was  actually  afloat  in  the  place  of  his  brother.  On  rep- 
resenting this  distressing  case  to  the  Board,  the  Commissioners  were 
pleased  to  grant  an  annuity  of  .£5  to  Scott's  mother. 

The  Smeaton,  not  having  been  made  fast  to  the  buoy,  had,  with 
the  ebb-tide,  drifted  to  leeward  a  considerable  way  eastward  of  the 

320 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

rock,  and  could  not,  till  the  return  of  the  flood-tide,  be  worked  up  to  I8o« 
her  moorings,  so  that  the  present  tide  was  lost,  notwithstanding  all 
exertions  which  had  been  made  both  ashore  and  afloat  with  this  cargo. 
The  artificers  landed  at  six  a.m. ;  but,  as  no  materials  could  be  got  upon 
the  rock  this  morning,  they  were  employed  in  boring  trenail  holes  and 
in  various  other  operations,  and  after  four  hours'  work  they  returned 
on  board  the  tender.  When  the  Smeaton  got  up  to  her  moorings,  the 
landing-master's  crew  immediately  began  to  unload  her.  There  being 
too  much  wind  for  towing  the  praams  in  the  usual  way,  they  were 
warped  to  the  rock  in  the  most  laborious  manner  by  their  windlasses, 
with  successive  grapplings  and  hawsers  laid  out  for  this  purpose.  At 
six  p.m.  the  artificers  landed,  and  continued  at  work  till  half-past  ten, 
when  the  remaining  seventeen  stones  were  laid  which  completed  the 
third  entire  course,  or  fourth  of  the  lighthouse,  with  which  the  building 
operations  were  closed  for  the  season. 


ill 

OPERATIONS  OF  1809 

THE  last  night  was  the  first  that  the  writer  had  passed  in  his  old  '8°9 
quarters  on  board  of  the  floating  light  for  about  twelve  months,  when  z4th  May. 
the  weather  was  so  fine  and  the  sea  so  smooth  that  even  here  he  felt 
but  little  or  no  motion,  excepting  at  the  turn  of  the  tide,  when  the 
vessel  gets  into  what  the  seamen  term  the  trough  of  tbe  sea.  At  six 
a.m.  Mr.  Watt,  who  conducted  the  operations  of  the  railways  and 
beacon-house,  had  landed  with  nine  artificers.  At  half-past  one  p.m. 
Mr.  Peter  Logan  had  also  landed  with  fifteen  masons,  and  immediately 
proceeded  to  set  up  the  crane.  The  sheer-crane  or  apparatus  for  lifting 
the  stones  out  of  the  praam-boats  at  the  eastern  creek  had  been  already 
erected,  and  the  railways  now  formed  about  two-thirds  of  an  entire 
circle  round  the  building:  some  progress  had  likewise  been  made  with 
the  reach  towards  the  western  landing-place.  The  floors  being  laid, 
the  beacon  now  assumed  the  appearance  of  a  habitation.  The  Smeaton 
was  at  her  moorings,  with  the  Fernie  praam-boat  astern,  for  which  she 
was  laying  down  moorings,  and  the  tender  being  also  at  her  station, 
the  Bell  Rock  had  again  put  on  its  former  busy  aspect. 

321 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1809  The  landing-master's  bell,  often  no  very  favourite  sound,  rung  at 

jut  May.  '  six  this  morning;  but  on  this  occasion,  it  is  believed,  it  was  gladly  re- 
ceived by  all  on  board,  as  the  welcome  signal  of  the  return  of  better 
weather.  The  masons  laid  thirteen  stones  to-day,  which  the  seamen 
had  landed,  together  with  other  building  materials.  During  these 
twenty-four  hours  the  wind  was  from  the  south,  blowing  fresh  breezes, 
accompanied  with  showers  of  snow.  In  the  morning  the  snow 
showers  were  so  thick  that  it  was  with  difficulty  the  landing-master, 
who  always  steered  the  leading  boat,  could  make  his  way  to  the  rock 
through  the  drift.  But  at  the  Bell  Rock  neither  snow  nor  rain,  nor  fog 
nor  wind,  retarded  the  progress  of  the  work,  if  unaccompanied  by  a 
heavy  swell  or  breach  of  the  sea. 

The  weather  during  the  months  of  April  and  May  had  been  uncom- 
monly boisterous,  and  so  cold  that  the  thermometer  seldom  exceeded 
40°,  while  the  barometer  was  generally  about  29.50.  We  had  not 
only  hail  and  sleet,  but  the  snow  on  the  last  day  of  May  lay  on  the 
decks  and  rigging  of  the  ship  to  the  depth  of  about  three  inches;  and, 
although  now  entering  upon  the  month  of  June,  the  length  of  the  day 
was  the  chief  indication  of  summer.  Yet  such  is  the  effect  of  habit, 
and  such  was  the  expertness  of  the  landing-master's  crew,  that,  even 
in  this  description  of  weather,  seldom  a  tide's  work  was  lost.  Such 
was  the  ardour  and  zeal  of  the  heads  of  the  several  departments  at  the 
rock,  including  Mr.  Peter  Logan,  foreman  builder,  Mr.  Francis  Watt, 
foreman  millwright,  and  Captain  Wilson,  landing-master,  that  it  was 
on  no  occasion  necessary  to  address  them,  excepting  in  the  way  of  pre- 
caution or  restraint.  Under  these  circumstances,  however,  the  writer 
not  unfrequently  felt  considerable  anxiety,  of  which  this  day's  expe- 
rience will  afford  an  example. 

This  morning,  at  a  quarter-past  eight,  the  artificers  were  landed  as 
usual,  and,  after  three  hours  and  three-quarters'  work,  five  stones  were 
laid,  the  greater  part  of  this  tide  having  been  taken  up  in  completing 
the  boring  and  trenailing  of  the  stones  formerly  laid.  At  noon  the 
writer,  with  the  seamen  and  artificers,  proceeded  to  the  tender,  leaving 
on  the  beacon  the  joiners,  and  several  of  those  who  were  troubled 
with  sea-sickness  —  among  whom  was  Mr.  Logan,  who  remained  with 
Mr.  Watt  —  counting  altogether  eleven  persons.  During  the  first  and 
middle  parts  of  these  twenty-four  hours  the  wind  was  from  the  east, 
blowing  what  the  seamen  term  "  fresh  breezes  "  ;  but  In  the  afternoon 

322 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

it  shifted  to  E.N.E.,  accompanied  with  so  heavy  a  swell  of  sea  that  the  I8°9 
Smeaton  and  tender  struck  their  topmasts,  launched  in  their  boltsprits, 
and  "  made  all  snug  "for  a  gale.  At  four  p.m.  the  Smeaton  was 
obliged  to  slip  her  moorings,  and  passed  the  tender,  drifting  before  the 
wind,  with  only  the  foresail  set.  In  passing,  Mr.  Pool  hailed  that  he 
must  run  for  the  Firth  of  Forth  to  prevent  the  vessel  from  "riding 
under." 

On  board  of  the  tender  the  writer's  chief  concern  was  about  the 
eleven  men  left  upon  the  beacon.  Directions  were  accordingly  given 
that  everything  about  the  vessel  should  be  put  in  the  best  possible 
state,  to  present  as  little  resistance  to  the  wind  as  possible,  that  she 
might  have  the  better  chance  of  riding  out  the  gale.  Among  these 
preparations  the  best  bower  cable  was  bent,  so  as  to  have  a  second 
anchor  in  readiness  in  case  the  mooring-hawser  should  give  way,  that 
every  means  might  be  used  for  keeping  the  vessel  within  sight  of  the 
prisoners  on  the  beacon,  and  thereby  keep  them  in  as  good  spirits  as 
possible.  From  the  same  motive  the  boats  were  kept  afloat  that  they 
might  be  less  in  fear  of  the  vessel  leaving  her  station.  The  landing- 
master  had,  however,  repeatedly  expressed  his  anxiety  for  the  safety 
of  the  boats,  and  wished  much  to  have  them  hoisted  on  board.  At 
seven  p.m.  one  of  the  boats,  as  he  feared,  was  unluckily  filled  with 
sea  from  a  wave  breaking  into  her,  and  it  was  with  great  difficulty 
that  she  could  be  baled  out  and  got  on  board,  with  the  loss  of  her 
oars,  rudder,  and  loose  thwarts.  Such  was  the  motion  of  the  ship  that 
in  taking  this  boat  on  board  her  gunwale  was  stove  in,  and  she  other- 
wise received  considerable  damage.  Night  approached,  but  it  was 
still  found  quite  impossible  to  go  near  the  rock.  Consulting,  there- 
fore, the  safety  of  the  second  boat,  she  also  was  hoisted  on  board  of 
the  tender. 

At  this  time  the  cabins  of  the  beacon  were  only  partially  covered, 
and  had  neither  been  provided  with  bedding  nor  a  proper  fireplace, 
while  the  stock  of  provisions  was  but  slender.  In  these  uncomfortable 
circumstances  the  people  on  the  beacon  were  left  for  the  night,  nor 
was  the  situation  of  those  on  board  of  the  tender  much  better.  The 
rolling  and  pitching  motion  of  the  ship  was  excessive;  and,  excepting 
1o  those  who  had  been  accustomed  to  a  residence  in  the  floating  light, 
it  seemed  quite  intolerable.  Nothing  was  heard  but  the  hissing  of  the 
winds  and  the  creaking  of  the  bulkheads  or  partitions  of  the  ship;  the 

323 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

J8°9  night  was,  therefore,  spent  in  the  most  unpleasant  reflections  upon  the 
condition  of  the  people  on  the  beacon,  especially  in  the  prospect  of  the 
tender  being  driven  from  her  moorings.  But,  even  in  such  a  case,  it 
afforded  some  consolation  that  the  stability  of  the  fabric  was  never 
doubted,  and  that  the  boats  of  the  floating  light  were  at  no  great  dis- 
tance, and  ready  to  render  the  people  on  the  rock  the  earliest  assistance 
which  the  weather  would  permit.  The  writer's  cabin  being  in  the 
sternmost  part  of  the  ship,  which  had  what  sailors  term  a  good  entry, 
or  was  sharp  built,  the  sea,  as  before  noticed,  struck  her  counter  with 
so  much  violence  that  the  water,  with  a  rushing  noise,  continually 
forced  its  way  up  the  rudder-case,  lifted  the  valve  of  the  water-closet, 
and  overran  the  cabin  floor.  In  these  circumstances  daylight  was 
eagerly  looked  for,  and  hailed  with  delight,  as  well  by  those  afloat  as 
by  the  artificers  upon  the  rock. 

Friday,  In  the  course  of  the  night  the  writer  held  repeated  conversations  with 
unc'  the  officer  on  watch,  who  reported  that  the  weather  continued  much 
in  the  same  state,  and  that  the  barometer  still  indicated  29.20  inches. 
At  six  a.m.  the  landing-master  considered  the  weather  to  have  some- 
what moderated;  and,  from  certain  appearances  of  the  sky,  he  was  of 
opinion  that  a  change  for  the  better  would  soon  take  place.  He  ac- 
cordingly proposed  to  attempt  a  landing  at  low  water,  and  either  get 
the  people  off  the  rock,  or  at  least  ascertain  what  state  they  were  in. 
At  nine  a.m.  he  left  the  vessel  with  a  boat  well-manned,  carrying  with 
him  a  supply  of  cooked  provisions  and  a  tea-kettle  full  of  mulled  port 
wine  for  the  people  on  the  beacon,  who  had  not  had  any  regular  diet 
for  about  thirty  hours,  while  they  were  exposed  during  that  period,  in 
a  great  measure,  both  to  the  winds  and  the  sprays  of  the  sea.  The 
boat  having  succeeded  in  landing,  she  returned  at  eleven  a.m.  with  the 
artificers,  who  had  got  off  with  considerable  difficulty,  and  who  were 
heartily  welcomed  by  all  on  board. 

Upon  inquiry  it  appeared  that  three  of  the  stones  last  laid  upon  the 
building  had  been  partially  lifted  from  their  beds  by  the  force  of  the 
sea,  and  were  now  held  only  by  the  trenails,  and  that  the  cast-iron 
sheer-crane  had  again  been  thrown  down  and  completely  broken. 
With  regard  to  the  beacon,  the  sea  at  high-water  had  lifted  part  of  the 
mortar  gallery  or  lowest  floor,  and  washed  away  all  the  lime-casks  and 
other  movable  articles  from  it;  but  the  principal  parts  of  this  fabric  had 
sustained  no  damage.  On  pressing  Messrs.  Logan  and  Watt  on  the 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

situation  of  things  in  the  course  of  the  night,  Mr.  Logan  emphatically  '8°9 
said:  "  That  the  beacon  had  an  ill-faured  1  twist  when  the  sea  broke 
upon  it  at  high-water,  but  that  they  were  not  very  apprehensive  of 
danger."  On  inquiring  as  to  how  they  spent  the  night,  it  appeared 
that  they  had  made  shift  to  keep  a  small  fire  burning,  and  by  means 
of  some  old  sails  defended  themselves  pretty  well  from  the  sea 
sprays. 

It  was  particularly  mentioned  that  by  the  exertions  of  James  Glen, 
one  of  the  joiners,  a  number  of  articles  were  saved  from  being  washed 
off  the  mortar  gallery.  Glen  was  also  very  useful  in  keeping  up  the 
spirits  of  the  forlorn  party.  In  the  early  part  of  life  he  had  undergone  many 
curious  adventures  at  sea,  which  he  now  recounted  somewhat  after  the 
manner  of  the  tales  of  the  Arabian  Nights.  When  one  observed  that 
the  beacon  was  a  most  comfortless  lodging,  Glen  would  presently  in- 
troduce some  of  his  exploits  and  hardships,  in  comparison  with  which 
the  state  of  things  at  the  beacon  bore  an  aspect  of  comfort  and  happi- 
ness. Looking  to  their  slender  stock  of  provisions,  and  their  perilous 
and  uncertain  chance  of  speedy  relief,  he  would  launch  out  into  an  ac- 
count of  one  of  his  expeditions  in  the  North  Sea,  when  the  vessel,  be- 
ing much  disabled  in  a  storm,  was  driven  before  the  wind  with  the  loss 
of  almost  all  their  provisions;  and  the  ship  being  much  infested  with 
rats,  the  crew  hunted  these  vermin  with  great  eagerness  to  help  their 
scanty  allowance.  By  such  means  Glen  had  the  addiess  to  make  his 
companions,  in  some  measure,  satisfied,  or  at  least  passive,  with  regard 
to  their  miserable  prospects  upon  this  half-tide  rock  in  the  middle  of 
the  ocean.  This  incident  is  noticed,  more  particularly,  to  show  the 
effects  of  such  a  happy  turn  of  mind,  even  under  the  most  distressing 
and  ill-fated  circumstances. 

At  eight  a.m.  the  artificers  and  sailors,  forty-five  in  number,  landed  Saturday, 
on  the  rock,  and  after  four  hours'  work  seven  stones  were  laid.  The 
remainder  of  this  tide,  from  the  threatening  appearance  of  the  weather, 
was  occupied  in  trenailing  and  making  all  things  as  secure  as  possible. 
At  twelve  noon  the  rock  and  building  were  again  overflowed,  when 
the  masons  and  seamen  went  on  board  of  the  tender,  but  Mr.  Watt, 
with  his  squad  of  ten  men,  remained  on  the  beacon  throughout  the 
day.  As  it  blew  fresh  from  the  N.W.  in  the  evening,  it  was  found 
impracticable  either  to  land  the  building  artificers  or  to  take  the  arti- 
l  Ill-formed— ugly.  — [R.  L.  S.J 
325 


A  FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'8°9  ficers  off  the  beacon,  and  they  were  accordingly  left  there  all  night, 
but  in  circumstances  very  different  from  those  of  the  ist  of  this  month. 
The  house,  being  now  in  a  more  complete  state,  was  provided  with 
bedding,  and  they  spent  the  night  pretty  well,  though  they  complained 
of  having  been  much  disturbed  at  the  time  of  high-water  by  the  shak- 
ing and  tremulous  motion  of  their  house  and  by  the  plashing  noise  of 
the  sea  upon  the  mortar  gallery.  Here  James  Glen's  versatile  powers 
were  again  at  work  in  cheering  up  those  who  seemed  to  be  alarmed, 
and  in  securing  everything  as  far  as  possible.  On  this  occasion  he  had 
only  to  recall  to  the  recollections  of  some  of  them  the  former  night  which 
they  had  spent  on  the  beacon,  the  wind  and  sea  being  then  much  higher, 
and  their  habitation  in  a  far  less  comfortable  state. 

The  wind  still  continuing  to  blow  fresh  from  the  N.W.,  at  5  p.m. 
the  writer  caused  a  signal  to  be  made  from  the  tender  for  the  Smeaton 
and  Patriot  to  slip  their  moorings,  when  they  ran  for  Lunan  Bay,  an 
anchorage  on  the  east  side  of  the  Redhead.  Those  on  board  of  the 
tender  spent  but  a  very  rough  night,  and  perhaps  slept  less  soundly 
than  their  companions  on  the  beacon,  especially  as  the  wind  was  at 
N.W.,  which  caused  the  vessel  to  ride  with  her  stern  towards  the  Bell 
Rock;  so  that,  in  the  event  of  anything  giving  way,  she  could  hardly 
have  escaped  being  stranded  upon  it. 

Sunday,         The  weather  having  moderated  to-day,  the  wind  shifted  to  the  west- 
i8th  June.  wanj     ^  a  quarter-past  nine  a.m.  the  artificers  landed  from  the  ten- 
der and  had  the  pleasure  to  find  their  friends  who  had  been  left  on  the 
rock  quite  hearty,  alleging  that  the  beacon  was  the  preferable  quarters 
of  the  two. 

Saturday,  Mr.  Peter  Logan,  the  foreman  builder,  and  his  squad,  twenty-one  in 
*4t  June.  numker^  landed  this  morning  at  three  o'clock,  and  continued  at  work 
four  hours  and  a  quarter,  and  after  laying  seventeen  stones  returned  to 
the  tender.  At  six  a.m.  Mr.  Francis  Watt  and  his  squad  of  twelve  men 
landed,  and  proceeded  with  their  respective  operations  at  the  beacon 
and  railways,  and  were  left  on  the  rock  during  the  whole  day  without 
the  necessity  of  having  any  communication  with  the  tender,  the  kitchen 
of  the  beacon-house  being  now  fitted  up.  It  was  to-day,  also,  that 
Peter  Fortune  —  a  most  obliging  and  well-known  character  in  the 
Lighthouse  service  —  was  removed  from  the  tender  to  the  beacon  as 
cook  and  steward,  with  a  stock  of  provisions  as  ample  as  his  limited 
storeroom  would  admit. 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

When  as  many  stones  were  built  as  comprised  this  day's  work,  the  i*°9 
demand  for  mortar  was  proportionally  increased,  and  the  task  of  the 
mortar-makers  on  these  occasions  was  both  laborious  and  severe. 
This  operation  was  chiefly  performed  by  John  Watt —  a  strong,  active 
quarrier  by  profession, —  who  was  a  perfect  character  in  his  way,  and 
extremely  zealous  in  his  department.  While  the  operations  of  the 
mortar-makers  continued,  the  forge  upon  their  gallery  was  not  generally 
in  use;  but,  as  the  working  hours  of  the  builders  extended  with  the 
height  of  the  building,  the  forge  could  not  be  so  long  wanted,  and  then 
a  sad  confusion  often  ensued  upon  the  circumscribed  floor  of  the  mor- 
tar gallery,  as  the  operations  of  Watt  and  his  assistants  trenched  great- 
ly upon  those  of  the  smiths.  Under  these  circumstances  the  boundary 
of  the  smiths  was  much  circumscribed,  and  they  were  personally  an- 
noyed, especially  in  blowy  weather,  with  the  dust  of  the  lime  in  its 
powdered  state.  The  mortar-makers,  on  the  other  hand,  were  often 
not  a  little  distressed  with  the  heat  of  the  fire  and  the  sparks  elicited  on 
the  anvil,  and  not  unaptly  complained  that  they  were  placed  between 
the  "  devil  and  the  deep  sea." 

The  work  being  now  about  ten  feet  in  height,  admitted  of  a  rope-  Sunday, 
ladder  being  distended  *  between  the  beacon  and  the  building.  By  this  * 
"Jacob's  Ladder,"  as  the  seamen  termed  it,  a  communication  was  kept 
up  with  the  beacon  while  the  rock  was  considerably  under  water. 
One  end  of  it  being  furnished  with  tackle-blocks,  was  fixed  to  the 
beams  of  the  beacon,  at  the  level  of  the  mortar  gallery,  while  the  fur- 
ther end  was  connected  with  the  upper  course  of  the  building  by 
means  of  two  Lewis  bats  which  were  lifted  from  course  to  course  as 
the  work  advanced.  In  the  same  manner  a  rope  furnished  with  a 
travelling  pulley  was  distended  for  the  purpose  of  transporting  the  mor- 
tar-buckets and  other  light  articles  between  the  beacon  and  the  build- 
ing, which  also  proved  a  great  conveniency  to  the  work.  At  this 
period  the  rope-ladder  and  tackle  for  the  mortar  had  a  descent  from  the 
beacon  to  the  building;  by  and  by  they  were  on  a  level,  and  towards 
the  end  of  the  season,  when  the  solid  part  had  attained  its  full  height, 
the  ascent  was  from  the  mortar-gallery  to  the  building. 

The  artificers  landed  on  the  rock  this  morning  at  a  quarter-past  six,  Friday, 
and  remained  at  work  five  hours.    The  cooking  apparatus  being  now  3°th  •Junc 

1  This  is  an  incurable  illusion  of  my  grandfather's ;  he  always  writes  "  distended  "  for 
"extended."  —  [R.  L.  S.] 

327 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'809  in  full  operation,  all  hands  had  breakfast  on  the  beacon  at  the  usual 
hour,  and  remained  there  throughout  the  day.  The  crane  upon  the 
building  had  to  be  raised  to-day  from  the  eighth  to  the  ninth  course, 
an  operation  which  now  required  all  the  strength  that  could  be  mus- 
tered for  working  the  guy-tackles  ;  for  as  the  top  of  the  crane  was  at 
this  time  about  thirty-five  feet  above  the  rock,  it  became  much  more 
unmanageable.  While  the  beam  was  in  the  act  of  swinging  round 
from  one  guy  to  another,  a  great  strain  was  suddenly  brought  upon 
the  opposite  tackle,  with  the  end  of  which  the  artificers  had  very  im- 
properly neglected  to  take  a  turn  round  some  stationary  object,  which 
would  have  given  them  the  complete  command  of  the  tackle.  Owing 
to  this  simple  omission,  the  crane  got  a  preponderancy  to  one  side, 
and  fell  upon  the  building  with  a  terrible  crash.  The  surrounding 
artificers  immediately  flew  in  every  direction  to  get  out  of  its  way  ;  but 
Michael  Wishart,  the  principal  builder,  having  unluckily  stumbled  upon 
one  of  the  uncut  trenails,  fell  upon  his  back.  His  body  fortunately  got 
between  the  movable  beam  and  the  upright  shaft  of  the  crane,  and 
was  thus  saved  ;  but  his  feet  got  entangled  with  the  wheels  of  the 
crane  and  were  severely  injured.  Wishart,  being  a  robust  young  man, 
endured  his  misfortune  with  wonderful  firmness  ;  he  was  laid  upon  one 
of  the  narrow  framed  beds  of  the  beacon  and  despatched  in  a  boat  to 
the  tender,  where  the  writer  was  when  this  accident  happened,  not  a 
little  alarmed  on  missing  the  crane  from  the  top  of  the  building,  and 
at  the  same  time  seeing  a  boat  rowing  towards  the  vessel  with  great 
speed.  When  the  boat  came  alongside  with  poor  Wishart,  stretched 
upon  a  bed  covered  with  blankets,  a  moment  of  great  anxiety  fol- 
lowed, which  was,  however,  much  relieved  when,  on  stepping  into  the 
boat,  he  was  accosted  by  Wishart,  though  in  a  feeble  voice,  and  with 
an  aspect  pale  as  death  from  excessive  bleeding.  Directions  having 
been  immediately  given  to  the  coxswain  to  apply  to  Mr.  Kennedy  at 
the  workyard  to  procure  the  best  surgical  aid,  the  boat  was  sent  off 
without  delay  to  Arbroath.  The  writer  then  landed  at  the  rock,  when 
the  crane  was  in  a  very  short  time  got  into  its  place  and  again  put  in  a 
working  state. 

Monday,     The  writer  having  come  to  Arbroath  with  the  yacht,  had  an  oppor- 

|r       *'  tunity  of  visiting  Michael  Wishart,  the  artificer  who  had  met  with  so 

severe  an  accident  at  the  rock  on  the  3oth  ult,  and  had  the  pleasure  to 

find  him  in  a  state  of  recovery.     From  Dr.  Stevenson's  account,  under 

328 


THE   BUILDING   OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

whose  charge  he  had  been  placed,  hopes  were  entertained  that  ampu-  I8°9 
tation  would  not  be  necessary,  as  his  patient  still  kept  free  of  fever  or 
any  appearance  of  mortification  ;  and  Wishart  expressed  a  hope  that 
he  might,  at  least,  be  ultimately  capable  of  keeping  the  light  at  the 
Bell  Rock,  as  it  was  not  now  likely  that  he  would  assist  further  in 
building  the  house. 

It  was  remarked  to-day,  with  no  small  demonstration  of  joy,  that  5a!uld?y' 
the  tide,  being  neap,  did  not,  for  the  first  time,  overflow  the  building 
at  high-water.  Flags  were  accordingly  hoisted  on  the  beacon-house, 
and  ctane  on  the  top  of  the  building,  which  were  repeated  from  the 
floating  light,  Lighthouse  yacht,  tender,  Smeaton,  Patriot,  and  the  two 
praams.  A  salute  of  three  guns  was  also  fired  from  the  yacht  at  high- 
water,  when,  all  the  artificers  being  collected  on  the  top  of  the  building, 
three  cheers  were  given  in  testimony  of  this  important  circumstance. 
A  glass  of  rum  was  then  served  out  to  all  hands  on  the  rock  and  on 
board  of  the  respective  ships. 

Besides  laying,  boring,  trenailing,  wedging,  and  grouting  thirty-two  Sunday, 
stones,  several  other  operations  were  proceeded  with  on  the  rock  at 
low-water,  when  some  of  the  artificers  were  employed  at  the  railways, 
and  at  high-water  at  the  beacon-house.  The  seamen  having  prepared 
a  quantity  of  tarpaulin,  or  cloth  laid  over  with  successive  coats  of  hot 
tar,  the  joiners  had  just  completed  the  covering  of  the  roof  with  it. 
This  sort  of  covering  was  lighter  and  more  easily  managed  than  sheet- 
lead  in  such  a  situation.  As  a  further  defence  against  the  weather  the 
whole  exterior  of  this  temporary  residence  was  painted  with  three  coats 
of  white-lead  paint.  Between  the  timber  framing  of  the  habitable  part 
of  the  beacon  the  interstices  were  to  be  stuffed  with  moss,  as  a  light 
substance  that  would  resist  dampness  and  check  sifting  winds ;  the 
whole  interior  was  then  to  be  lined  with  green  baize  cloth,  so  that  both 
without  and  within  the  cabins  were  to  have  a  very  comfortable  ap- 
pearance. 

Although  the  building  artificers  generally  remained  on  the  rock 
throughout  the  day,  and  the  millwrights,  joiners,  and  smiths,  while 
their  number  was  considerable,  remained  also  during  the  night,  yet  the 
tender  had  hitherto  been  considered  as  their  night  quarters.  But  the 
wind  having  in  the  course  of  the  day  shifted  to  the  N.W.,  and  as  the 
passage  to  the  tender,  in  the  boats,  was  likely  to  be  attended  with 
difficulty,  the  whole  of  the  artificers,  with  Mr.  Logan,  the  foreman, 

329 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1809  preferred  remaining  all  night  on  the  beacon,  which  had  of  late  become 
the  solitary  abode  of  George  Forsyth,  a  jobbing  upholsterer,  who  had 
been  employed  in  lining  the  beacon-house  with  cloth  and  in  fitting  up 
the  bedding.  Forsyth  was  a  tall,  thin,  and  rather  loose-made  man, 
who  had  an  utter  aversion  at  climbing  upon  the  trap-ladders  of  the 
beacon,  but  especially  at  the  process  of  boating,  and  the  motion  of  the 
ship,  which  he  said  "was  death  itself."  He  therefore  pertinaciously 
insisted  with  the  landing-master  in  being  left  upon  the  beacon,  with  a 
small  black  dog  as  his  only  companion.  The  writer,  however,  felt 
some  delicacy  in  leaving  a  single  individual  upon  the  rock,  who  must 
have  been  so  very  helpless  in  case  of  accident.  This  fabric  had,  from 
the  beginning,  been  rather  intended  by  the  writer  to  guard  against  ac- 
cident from  the  loss  or  damage  of  a  boat,  and  as  a  place  for  making 
mortar,  a  smith's  shop,  and  a  store  for  tools  during  the  working 
months,  than  as  permanent  quarters ;  nor  was  it  at  all  meant  to  be 
possessed  until  the  joiner-work  was  completely  finished,  and  his  own 
cabin,  and  that  for  the  foreman,  in  readiness,  when  it  was  still  to  be 
left  to  the  choice  of  the  artificers  to  occupy  the  tender  or  the  beacon. 
He,  however,  considered  Forsyth's  partiality  and  confidence  in  the  lat- 
ter as  rather  a  fortunate  occurrence. 

Wednesday,  The  whole  of  the  artificers,  twenty-three  in  number,  now  removed 
191  •'uly'  of  their  own  accord  from  the  tender,  to  lodge  in  the  beacon,  together 
with  Peter  Fortune,  a  person  singularly  adapted  for  a  residence  of  this 
kind,  both  from  the  urbanity  of  his  manners  and  the  versatility  of  his 
talents.  Fortune,  in  his  person,  was  of  small  stature,  and  rather  cor- 
pulent. Besides  being  a  good  Scots  cook,  he  had  acted  both  as  groom 
and  house-servant ;  he  had  been  a  soldier,  a  sutler,  a  writer's  clerk,  and 
an  apothecary,  from  which  he  possessed  the  art  of  writing  and  suggest- 
ing recipes,  and  had  hence,  also,  perhaps,  acquired  a  turn  for  making 
collections  in  natural  history.  But  in  his  practice  in  surgery  on  the  Bell 
Rock,  for  which  he  received  an  annual  fee  of  three  guineas,  he  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  rather  partial  to  the  use  of  the  lancet.  In  short, 
Peter  was  the  factotum  of  the  beacon-house,  where  he  ostensibly  acted 
in  the  several  capacities  of  cook,  steward,  surgeon,  and  barber,  and 
kept  a  statement  of  the  rations  or  expenditure  of  the  provisions  with 
the  strictest  integrity. 

In  the  present  important  state  of  the  building,  when  it  had  just  at- 
tained the  height  of  sixteen  feet,  and  the  upper  courses,  and  especially 


THE  BUILDING  OF   THE  BELL  ROCK 

the  imperfect  one,  were  in  the  wash  of  the  heaviest  seas,  an  express  *8°9 
boat  arrived  at  the  rock  with  a  letter  from  Mr.  Kennedy,  of  the  work- 
yard,  stating  that  in  consequence  of  the  intended  expedition  to  Wal- 
cheren,  an  embargo  had  been  laid  on  shipping  at  all  the  ports  of  Great 
Britain :  that  both  the  Smeaton  and  Patriot  were  detained  at  Arbroath, 
and  that  but  for  the  proper  view  which  Mr.  Ramsey,  the  port-officer, 
had  taken  of  his  orders,  neither  the  express  boat  nor  one  which  had 
been  sent  with  provisions  and  necessaries  for  the  floating  light  would 
have  been  permitted  to  leave  the  harbour.  The  writer  set  off  without 
delay  for  Arbroath,  and  on  landing  used  every  possible  means  with  the 
official  people,  but  their  orders  were  deemed  so  peremptory  that  even 
boats  were  not  permitted  to  sail  from  any  port  upon  the  coast.  In  the 
meantime,  the  collector  of  the  Customs  st  Montrose  applied  to  the 
Board  at  Edinburgh,  but  could,  of  himself,  grant  no  relief  to  the  Bell 
Rock  shipping. 

At  this  critical  period  Mr.  Adam  Duff,  then  Sheriff  of  Forfarshire, 
now  of  the  county  of  Edinburgh,  and  ex  officio  one  of  the  Commis- 
sioners of  the  Northern  Lighthouses,  happened  to  be  at  Arbroath.  Mr. 
Duff  took  an  immediate  interest  in  representing  the  circumstances  of 
the  case  to  the  Board  of  Customs  at  Edinburgh.  But  such  were  the 
doubts  entertained  on  the  subject  that,  on  having  previously  received 
the  appeal  from  the  collector  at  Montrose,  the  case  had  been  submitted 
to  the  consideration  of  the  Lords  of  the  Treasury,  whose  decision  was 
now  waited  for. 

In  this  state  of  things  the  writer  felt  particularly  desirous  to  get  the 
thirteenth  course  finished,  that  the  building  might  be  in  a  more  secure 
state  in  the  event  of  bad  weather.  An  opportunity  was  therefore  em- 
braced on  the  25th,  in  sailing  with  provisions  for  the  floating  light,  to 
carry  the  necessary  stones  to  the  rock  for  this  purpose,  which  were 
landed  and  built  on  the  26th  and  27th.  But  so  closely  was  the  watch 
kept  up  that  a  Custom-house  officer  was  always  placed  on  board  of 
the  Smeaton  and  Patriot  while  they  were  afloat,  till  the  embargo  was 
especially  removed  from  the  lighthouse  vessels.  The  artificers  at  the 
Bell  Rock  had  been  reduced  to  fifteen,  who  were  regularly  supplied 
with  provisions,  along  with  the  crew  of  the  floating  light,  mainly 
through  the  port  officer's  liberal  interpretation  of  his  orders. 

There  being  a  considerable  swell  and  breach  of  sea  upon  the  rock  Tue«day, 
yesterday,  the  stones  could  not  be  got  landed  till  the  day  following,  "  Ang* 

33 1 


A  FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1809  when  the  wind  shifted  to  the  southward  and  the  weather  improved. 
But  to-day  no  less  than  seventy-eight  blocks  of  stone  were  landed,  of 
which  forty  were  built,  which  completed  the  fourteenth  and  part  of 
the  fifteenth  courses.  The  number  of  workmen  now  resident  in  the 
beacon-house  were  augmented  to  twenty-four,  including  the  land- 
ing-master's crew  from  the  tender  and  the  boat's  crew  from  the 
floating  light,  who  assisted  at  landing  the  stones.  Those  daily  at 
work  upon  the  rock  at  this  period  amounted  to  forty-six.  A  Cabin 
had  been  laid  out  for  the  writer  on  the  beacon,  but  his  apartment 
had  been  the  last  which  was  finished,  and  he  had  not  yet  taken 
possession  of  it;  for  though  he  generally  spent  the  greater  part  of 
the  day,  at  this  time,  upon  the  rock,  yet  he  always  slept  on  board 
of  the  tender. 

Friday,         The  wind  was  at  S.E.  on  the  i  ith,  and  there  was  so  very  heavy  a 
ue'  swell  of  sea  upon  the  rock  that  no  boat  could  approach  it. 

Saturday,  The  gale  still  continuing  from  the  S.E.,  the  sea  broke  with  great 
'  violence  both  upon  the  building  and  the  beacon.  The  former  being 
twenty-three  feet  in  height,  the  upper  part  of  the  crane  erected  on  it 
having  been  lifted  from  course  to  course  as  the  building  advanced,  was 
now  about  thirty-six  feet  above  the  rock.  From  observations  made 
on  the  rise  of  the  sea  by  this  crane,  the  artificers  were  enabled  to  esti- 
mate its  height  to  be  about  fifty  feet  above  the  rock,  while  the  sprays 
fell  with  a  most  alarming  noise  upon  their  cabins.  At  low-water,  in 
the  evening,  a  signal  was  made  from  the  beacon,  at  the  earnest  desire 
of  some  of  the  artificers,  for  the  boats  to  come  to  the  rock;  and  al- 
though this  could  not  be  effected  without  considerable  hazard,  it  was, 
however,  accomplished,  when  twelve  of  their  number,  being  much 
afraid,  applied  to  the  foreman  to  be  relieved,  and  went  on  board  of 
the  tender.  But  the  remaining  fourteen  continued  on  the  rock,  with 
Mr.  Peter  Logan,  the  foreman  builder.  Although  this  rule  of  allowing 
an  option  to  every  man  either  to  remain  on  the  rock  or  return  to  the 
tender  was  strictly  adhered  to,  yet,  as  it  would  have  been  extremely 
inconvenient  to  have  had  the  men  parcelled  out  in  this  manner,  it  be- 
came necessary  to  embrace  the  first  opportunity  of  sending  those  who 
had  left  the  beacon  to  the  workyard,  with  as  little  appearance  of  in- 
tention as  possible,  lest  it  should  hurt  their  feelings,  or  prevent  others 
from  acting  according  to  their  wishes,  either  in  landing  on  the  rock  or 
remaining  on  the  beacon. 

333 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

The  wind  had  fortunately  shifted  to  the  S.W.  this  morning,  and  I8°9 
though  a  considerable  breach  was  still  upon  the  rock,  yet  the  landing-  isth  AU& 
master's  crew  were  enabled  to  get  one  praam-boat,  lightly  loaded  with 
five-stones,  brought  in  safety  to  the  western  creek;  these  stones  were 
immediately  laid  by  the  artificers,  who  gladly  embraced  the  return  of 
good  weather  to  proceed  with  their  operations.  The  writer  had  this 
day  taken  possession  of  his  cabin  in  the  beacon-house.  It  was  small, 
but  commodious,  and  was  found  particularly  convenient  in  coarse  and 
blowing  weather,  instead  of  being  obliged  to  make  a  passage  to  the 
tender  in  an  open  boat  at  all  times,  both  during  the  day  and  the  night, 
which  was  often  attended  with  much  difficulty  and  danger. 

For  some  days  past  the  weather  had  been  occasionally  so  thick  and  Saturday, 
foggy  that  no  small  difficulty  was  experienced  in  going  even  between 
the  rock  and  the  tender,  though  quite  at  hand.  But  the  floating  light's 
boat  lost  her  way  so  far  in  returning  on  board  that  the  first  land  she 
made,  after  rowing  all  night,  was  Fifeness,  a  distance  of  about  four- 
teen miles.  The  weather  having  cleared  in  the  morning,  the  crew 
stood  off  again  for  the  floating  light,  and  got  on  board  in  a  half-fam- 
ished and  much  exhausted  state,  having  been  constantly  rowing  for 
about  sixteen  hours. 

The  weather  being  very  favourable  to-day,  fifty-three  stones  were  Sunday, 
landed,  and  the  builders  were  not  a  little  gratified  in  having  built  the  *°th  Aug' 
twenty-second  course,  consisting  of  fifty-one  stones,  being  the  first 
course  which  had  been  completed  in  one  day.     This,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  produced  three  hearty  cheers.     At  twelve  noon  prayers  were 
read  for  the  first  time  on  the  Bell  Rock;  those  present,  counting  thirty, 
were  crowded  into  the  upper  apartment  of  the  beacon,  where  the 
writer  took  a  central  position,  while  two  of  the  artificers,  joining  hands, 
supported  the  Bible. 

To-day  the  artificers  laid  forty-five  stones,  which  completed  the  Friday, 
twenty-fourth  course,  reckoning  above  the  first  entire  one,  and  the  *$th  Au* 
twenty-sixth  above  the  rock.     This  finished  the  solid  part  of  the  build- 
ing, and  terminated  the  height  of  the  outward  casing  of  granite,  which 
is  thirty-one  feet  six  inches  above  the  rock  or  site  of  the  foundation- 
stone,  and  about  seventeen  feet  above  high-water  of  spring-tides.    Be- 
ing a  particular  crisis  in  the  progress  of  the  lighthouse,  the  landing  and 
laying  of  the  last  stone  for  the  season  was  observed  with  the  usual  cer- 
emonies. 

333 


A  FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'8°9  From  observations  often  made  by  the  writer,  in  so  far  as  such  can 

be  ascertained,  it  appears  that  no  wave  in  the  open  seas,  in  an  un- 
broken state,  rises  more  than  from  seven  to  nine  feet  above  the  general 
surface  of  the  ocean.  The  Bell  Rock  Lighthouse  may  therefore  now 
be  considered  at  from  eight  to  ten  feet  above  the  height  of  the  waves; 
and,  although  the  sprays  and  heavy  seas  have  often  been  observed,  in 
the  present  state  of  the  building,  to  rise  to  the  height  of  fifty  feet,  and 
fall  with  a  tremendous  noise  on  the  beacon-house,  yet  such  seas  were 
not  likely  to  make  any  impression  on  a  mass  of  solid  masonry,  con- 
taining about  1400  tons. 
Wednesday,  The  whole  of  the  artificers  left  the  rock  at  mid-day,  when  the  tender 

}oth  Aug. 

made  sail  for  Arbroath,  which  she  reached  about  six  p.m.  The  vessel 
being  decorated  with  colours,  and  having  fired  a  salute  of  three  guns 
on  approaching  the  harbour,  the  workyard  artificers,  with  a  multitude 
of  people,  assembled  at  the  harbour,  when  mutual  cheering  and  con- 
gratulations took  place  between  those  afloat  and  those  on  the  quays. 
The  tender  had  now,  with  little  exception,  been  six  months  on  the 
station  at  the  Bell  Rock,  and  during  the  last  four  months  few  of  the 
squad  of  builders  had  been  ashore.  In  particular,  Mr.  Peter  Logan,  the 
foreman,  and  Mr.  Robert  Selkirk,  principal  builder,  had  never  once  left 
the  rock.  The  artificers,  having  made  good  wages  during  their  stay, 
like  seamen  upon  a  return  voyage,  were  extremely  happy,  and  spent  the 
evening  with  much  innocent  mirth  and  jollity. 

In  reflecting  upon  the  state  of  the  matters  at  the  Bell  Rock  during  the 
working  months,  when  the  writer  was  much  with  the  artificers,  nothing 
can  equal  the  happy  manner  in  which  these  excellent  workmen  spent 
their  time.  They  always  went  from  Arbroath  to  their  arduous  task 
cheering;  and  they  generally  returned  in  the  same  hearty  state.  While 
at  the  rock,  between  the  tides,  they  amused  themselves  in  reading, 
fishing,  music,  playing  cards,  draughts,  etc.,  or  in  sporting  with  one 
another.  In  the  workyard  at  Arbroath  the  young  men  were  almost, 
without  exception,  employed  in  the  evening  at  school,  in  writing  and 
arithmetic,  and  not  a  few  were  learning  architectural  drawing,  for 
which  they  had  every  convenience  and  facility,  and  were,  in  a  very 
obliging  manner,  assisted  in  their  studies  by  Mr.  David  Logan,  clerk 
of  the  works.  It  therefore  affords  the  most  pleasing  reflections  to  look 
back  upon  the  pursuits  of  about  sixty  individuals  who  for  years  con- 
ducted themselves,  on  all  occasions,  in  a  sober  and  rational  manner. 

334 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 
IV 

OPERATIONS  OF    1810 

THE  wind  had  shifted  to-day  to  W.N.W.,  when  the  writer,  with  «8io 
considerable  difficulty,  was  enabled  to  land  upon  the  rock  for  the  first  ioth  May! 
time  this  season,  at  ten  a.m.  Upon  examining  the  state  of  the  build- 
ing, and  apparatus  in  general,  he  had  the  satisfaction  to  find  everything 
in  good  order.  The  mortar  in  all  the  joints  was  perfectly  entire.  The 
building,  now  thirty  feet  in  height,  was  thickly  coated  withfuci  to  the 
height  of  about  fifteen  feet,  calculating  from  the  rock  :  on  the  eastern 
side,  indeed,  the  growth  of  seaweed  was  observable  to  the  full  height 
of  thirty  feet,  and  even  on  the  top  or  upper  bed  of  the  last-laid  course, 
especially  towards  the  eastern  side,  it  had  germinated,  so  as  to  render 
walking  upon  it  somewhat  difficult. 

The  beacon-house  was  in  a  perfectly  sound  state,  and  apparently 
just  as  it  had  been  left  in  the  month  of  November.  But  the  tides  being 
neap,  the  lower  parts,  particularly  where  the  beams  rested  on  the  rock, 
could  not  now  be  seen.  The  floor  of  the  mortar  gallery  having  been 
already  laid  down  by  Mr.  Watt  and  his  men  on  a  former  visit,  was 
merely  soaked  with  the  sprays  ;  but  the  joisting-beams  which  sup- 
ported it  had,  in  the  course  of  the  winter,  been  covered  with  a  fine 
downy  conferva  produced  by  the  range  of  the  sea.  They  were  also  a 
good  deal  whitened  with  the  mute  of  the  cormorant  and  other  sea- 
fowls,  which  had  roosted  upon  the  beacon  in  winter.  Upon  ascending 
to  the  apartments,  it  was  found  that  the  motion  of  the  sea  had  thrown 
open  the  door  of  the  cook-house  :  this  was  only  shut  with  a  single 
latch,  that  in  case  of  shipwreck  at  the  Bell  Rock  the  mariner  might 
find  ready  access  to  the  shelter  of  this  forlorn  habitation,  where  a  sup- 
ply of  provisions  was  kept;  and  being  within  two  miles  and  a  half  of 
the  floating  light,  a  signal  could  readily  be  observed,  when  a  boat 
might  be  sent  to  his  relief  as  soon  as  the  weather  permitted.  An  ar- 
rangement for  this  purpose  formed  one  of  the  instructions  on  board  of 
the  floating  light,  but  happily  no  instance  occurred  for  putting  it  in 
practice.  The  hearth  or  fireplace  of  the  cook-house  was  built  of  brick 
in  as  secure  a  manner  as  possible,  to  prevent  accident  from  fire ;  but 
some  of  the  plaster-work  had  shaken  loose,  from  its  damp  state,  and 
the  tremulous  motion  of  the  beacon  in  stormy  weather.  The  writer 

335 


A   FAMILY   OF  ENGINEERS 

»*»°  next  ascended  to  the  floor  which  was  occupied  by  the  cabins  of  him- 
self and  his  assistants,  which  were  in  tolerably  good  order,  having 
only  a  damp  and  musty  smell.  The  barrack  for  the  artificers,  over  all, 
was  next  visited  ;  it  had  now  a  very  dreary  and  deserted  appearance 
when  its  former  thronged  state  was  recollected.  In  some  parts  the 
water  had  come  through  the  boarding,  and  had  discoloured  the  lining 
of  green  cloth,  but  it  was,  nevertheless,  in  a  good  habitable  condition. 
While  the  seamen  were  employed  in  landing  a  stock  of  provisions,  a 
few  of  the  artificers  set  to  work  with  great  eagerness  to  sweep  and  clean 
the  several  apartments.  The  exterior  of  the  beacon  was,  in  the  mean- 
time, examined,  and  found  in  perfect  order.  The  painting,  though  it 
had  a  somewhat  blanched  appearance,  adhered  firmly  both  on  the 
sides  and  roof,  and  only  two  or  three  panes  of  glass  were  broken  in  the 
cupola,  which  had  either  been  blown  out  by  the  force  of  the  wind  01 
perhaps  broken  by  sea-fowl. 

Having  on  this  occasion  continued  upon  the  building  and  beacon  a 
considerable  time  after  the  tide  had  begun  to  flow,  the  artificers  were 
occupied  in  removing  the  forge  from  the  top  of  the  building,  to  which 
the  gangway  or  wooden  bridge  gave  great  facility;  and,  although  it 
stretched  or  had  a  span  of  forty-two  feet,  its  construction  was  ex- 
tremely simple,  while  the  roadway  was  perfectly  firm  and  steady.  In 
returning  from  this  visit  to  the  rock  every  one  was  pretty  well  soused 
in  spray  before  reaching  the  tender  at  two  o'clock  p.m.,  where  things 
awaited  the  landing  party  in  as  comfortable  a  way  as  such  a  situation 
would  admit. 

Friday,  The  wind  was  still  easterly,  accompanied  with  rather  a  heavy  swell 
th  M*r<  of  sea  for  the  operations  in  hand.  A  landing  was,  however,  made  this 
morning,  when  the  artificers  were  immediately  employed  in  scraping 
the  seaweed  off  the  upper  course  of  the  building,  in  order  to  apply  the 
moulds  of  the  first  course  of  the  staircase,  that  the  joggle-holes  might 
be  marked  off  in  the  upper  course  of  the  solid.  This  was  also  neces- 
sary previously  to  the  writer's  fixing  the  position  of  the  entrance-door, 
which  was  regulated  chiefly  by  the  appearance  of  the  growth  of  the 
seaweed  on  the  building,  indicating  the  direction  of  the  heaviest  seas, 
on  the  opposite  side  of  which  the  door  was  placed.  The  landing- 
master's  crew  succeeded  in  towing  into  the  creek  on  the  western  side 
of  the  rock  the  praam-boat  with  the  balance-crane,  which  had  now 
been  on  board  of  the  praam  for  five  days.  The  several  pieces  of  this 

336 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

machine,  having  been  conveyed  along  the  railways  upon  the  waggons  181° 
to  a  position  immediately  under  the  bridge,  were  elevated  to  its  level, 
or  thirty  feet  above  the  rock,  in  the  following  manner.  A  chain-tackle 
was  suspended  over  a  pulley  from  the  cross-beam  connecting  the  tops 
of  the  kingposts  of  the  bridge,  which  was  worked  by  a  winch-machine 
with  wheel,  pinion,  and  barrel,  round  which  last  the  chain  was  wound. 
This  apparatus  was  placed  on  the  beacon  side  of  the  bridge,  at  the 
distance  of  about  twelve  feet  from  the  cross-beam  and  pulley  in  the 
middle  of  the  bridge.  Immediately  under  the  cross-beam  a  hatch  was 
formed  in  the  roadway  of  the  bridge,  measuring  seven  feet  in  length 
and  five  feet  in  breadth,  made  to  shut  with  folding  boards  like  a  double 
door,  through  which  stones  and  other  articles  were  raised;  the  folding 
doors  were  then  let  down,  and  the  stone  or  load  was  gently  lowered 
upon  a  waggon  which  was  wheeled  on  railway  trucks  towards  the 
lighthouse.  In  this  manner  the  several  castings  of  the  balance-crane 
were  got  up  to  the  top  of  the  solid  of  the  building. 

The  several  apartments  of  the  beacon-house  having  been  cleaned 
out  and  supplied  with  bedding,  a  sufficient  stock  of  provisions  was  put 
into  the  store,  when  Peter  Fortune,  formerly  noticed,  lighted  his  fire 
in  the  beacon  for  the  first  time  this  season.  Sixteen  artificers  at  the 
same  time  mounted  to  their  barrack-room,  and  the  foremen  of  the 
works  also  took  possession  of  their  cabin,  all  heartily  rejoiced  at  get- 
ting rid  of  the  trouble  of  boating  and  the  sickly  motion  of  the  tender. 

The  wind  was  at  E.N.E.,  blowing  so  fresh,  and  accompanied  with  so  Saturday, 
much  sea,  that  no  stones  could  be  landed  to-day.     The  people  on  the 
rock,  however,  were  busily  employed  in  screwing  together  the  bal- 
ance-crane, cutting  out  the  joggle-holes  in  the  upper  course,  and  pre- 
paring all  things  for  commencing  the  building  operations. 

The  weather  still  continues  boisterous,  although  the  barometer  has  Sunday, 
all  the  while  stood  at  about  30  inches.     Towards  evening  the  wind  1Jth  Mir' 
blew  so  fresh  at  E.  by  S.  that  the  boats  both  of  the  Smeaton  and 
tender  were  obliged  to  be  hoisted  in,  and  it  was  feared  that  the  Smea- 
ton would  have  to  slip  her  moorings.     The  people  on  the  rock  were 
seen  busily  employed,  and  had  the  balance-crane  apparently  ready 
for  use,  but  no  communication  could  be  had  with  them  to-day. 

The  wind  continued  to  blow  so  fresh,  and  the  Smeaton  rode  so  Monday, 
heavily  with  her  cargo,  that  at  noon  a  signal  was  made  for  her  getting  '4 
under  weigh,  when  she  stood  towards  Arbroath;  and  on  board  of  the 

337 


A   FAMILY  OF   ENGINEERS 

i8to  tender  we  are  still  without  any  communication  with  the  people  on  the 
rock,  where  the  sea  was  seen  breaking  over  the  top  of  the  building  in 
great  sprays,  and  raging  with  much  agitation  among  the  beams  of 
the  beacon. 

ThundiY,  The  wind,  in  the  course  of  the  day,  had  shifted  from  north  to  west; 
r>  the  sea  being  also  considerably  less,  a  boat  landed  on  the  rock  at  six 
p.m.,  for  the  first  time  since  the  nth,  with  the  provisions  and  water 
brought  off  by  the  Patriot.  The  inhabitants  of  the  beacon  were  all 
well,  but  tired  above  measure  for  want  of  employment,  as  the  bal- 
ance-crane and  apparatus  was  all  in  readiness.  Under  these  circum- 
stances they  felt  no  less  desirous  of  the  return  of  good  weather  than 
those  afloat,  who  were  continually  tossed  with  the  agitation  of  the 
sea.  The  writer,  in  particular,  felt  himself  almost  as  much  fatigued  and 
wom-out  as  he  had  been  at  any  period  since  the  commencement  of  the 
work.  The  very  backward  state  of  the  weather  at  so  advanced  a  pe- 
riod of  the  season  unavoidably  created  some  alarm  lest  he  should  be 
overtaken  with  bad  weather  at  a  late  period  of  the  season,  with  the 
building  operations  in  an  unfinished  state.  These  apprehensions  were, 
no  doubt,  rather  increased  by  the  inconveniences  of  his  situation 
afloat,  as  the  tender  rolled  and  pitched  excessively  at  times.  This 
being  also  his  first  off-set  for  the  season,  every  bone  of  his  body  felt 
sore  with  preserving  a  sitting  posture  while  he  endeavoured  to  pass 
away  the  time  in  reading;  as  for  writing,  it  was  wholly  impracticable. 
He  had  several  times  entertained  thoughts  of  leaving  the  station  for  a 
few  days  and  going  into  Arbroath  with  the  tender  till  the  weather 
should  improve;  but  as  the  artificers  had  been  landed  on  the  rock  he 
was  averse  to  this  at  the  commencement  of  the  season,  knowing  also 
that  he  would  be  equally  uneasy  in  every  situation  till  the  first  cargo 
was  landed:  and  he  therefore  resolved  to  continue  at  his  post  until 
this  should  be  effected. 

Friday,  The  wind  being  now  N.W.,  the  sea  was  considerably  run  down, 
r>  and  this  morning  at  five  o'clock  the  landing-master's  crew,  thirteen  in 
number,  left  the  tender;  and  having  now  no  detention  with  the  land- 
ing of  artificers,  they  proceeded  to  unmoor  the  Hedderwick  praam-boat, 
and  towed  her  alongside  of  the  Smeaton:  and  in  the  course  of  the  day 
twenty-three  blocks  of  stone,  three  casks  of  pozzolano,  three  of  sand, 
three  of  lime,  and  one  of  Roman  cement,  together  with  three  bundles 
of  trenails  and  three  of  wedges,  were  all  landed  on  the  rock  and  raised 

338 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

to  the  top  of  the  building  by  means  of  the  tackle  suspended  from  the  >8io 
cross-beam  on  the  middle  of  the  bridge.  The  stones  were  then 
moved  along  the  bridge  on  the  waggon  to  the  building  within  reach 
of  the  balance-crane,  with  which  they  were  laid  in  their  respective 
places  on  the  building.  The  masons  immediately  thereafter  proceeded 
to  bore  the  trenail-holes  into  the  course  below,  and  otherwise  to  com- 
plete the  one  in  hand.  When  the  first  stone  was  to  be  suspended  by 
the  balance-crane,  the  bell  on  the  beacon  was  rung,  and  all  the  arti- 
ficers and  seamen  were  collected  on  the  building.  Three  hearty  cheers 
were  given  while  it  was  lowered  into  its  place,  and  the  steward  served 
round  a  glass  of  rum,  when  success  was  drunk  to  the  further  progress 
of  the  building. 

The  wind  was  southerly  to-day,  but  there  was  much  less  sea  than  Sunday, 
yesterday,  and  the  landing-master's  crew  were  enabled  to  discharge  *° 
and  land  twenty-three  pieces  of  stone  and  other  articles  for  the  work. 
The  artificers  had  completed  the  laying  of  the  twenty-seventh  or  first 
course  of  the  staircase  this  morning,  and  in  the  evening  they  finished 
the  boring,  trenailing,  wedging,  and  grouting  it  with  mortar.     At 
twelve  o'clock  noon  the  beacon-house  bell  was  rung,  and  all  hands 
were  collected  on  the  top  of  the  building,  where  prayers  were  read  for 
the  first  time  on  the  lighthouse,  which  forcibly  struck  every  one,  and 
had,  upon  the  whole,  a  very  impressive  effect. 

From  the  hazardous  situation  of  the  beacon-house  with  regard  to 
fire,  being  composed  wholly  of  timber,  there  was  no  small  risk  from 
accident;  and  on  this  account  one  of  the  most  steady  of  the  artificers 
was  appointed  to  see  that  the  fire  of  the  cooking-house,  and  the  lights 
in  general,  were  carefully  extinguished  at  stated  hours. 

This  being  the  birthday  of  our  much-revered  Sovereign  King  George  Monday, 
HI.,  now  in  the  fiftieth  year  of  his  reign,  the  shipping  of  the  Light-  4th  June- 
house  service  were  this  morning  decorated  with  colours  according  to 
the  taste  of  their  respective  captains.     Flags  were  also  hoisted  upon 
the  beacon-house  and  balance-crane  on  the  top  of  the  building.     At 
twelve  noon  a  salute  was  fired  from  the  tender,  when  the  King's  health 
was  drunk,  with  all  the  honours,  both  on  the  rock  and  on  board  of 
the  shipping. 

As  the  lighthouse  advanced  in  height,  the  cubical  contents  of  the  Tueida>-. 
stones  were  less,  but  they  had  to  be  raised  to  a  greater  height;  and  the  ^  •'unt 
walls,  being  thinner,  were  less  commodious  for  the  necessary  machin- 

339 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1810  ery  and  the  artificers  employed,  which  considerably  retarded  the 
work.  Inconvenience  was  also  occasionally  experienced  from  the  men 
dropping  their  coats,  hats,  mallets,  and  other  tools,  at  high-water, 
which  were  carried  away  by  the  tide;  and  the  danger  to  the  people 
themselves  was  now  greatly  increased.  Had  any  of  them  fallen  from 
the  beacon  or  building  at  high-water,  while  the  landing-master's  crew 
were  generally  engaged  with  the  craft  at  a  distance,  it  must  have  ren- 
dered the  accident  doubly  painful  to  those  on  the  rock,  who  at  this 
time  had  no  boat,  and  consequently  no  means  of  rendering  immediate 
and  prompt  assistance.  In  such  cases  it  would  have  been  too  late  to 
have  got  a  boat  by  signal  from  the  tender.  A  small  boat,  which  could 
be  lowered  at  pleasure,  was  therefore  suspended  by  a  pair  of  davits 
projected  from  the  cook-house,  the  keel  being  about  thirty  feet  from 
the  rock.  This  boat,  with  its  tackle,  was  put  under  the  charge  of 
James  Glen,  of  whose  exertions  on  the  beacon  mention  has  already 
been  made,  and  who,  having  in  early  life  been  a  seaman,  was  also 
very  expert  in  the  management  of  a  boat.  A  life-buoy  was  likewise 
suspended  from  the  bridge,  to  which  a  coil  of  line  two  hundred  fathoms 
in  length  was  attached,  which  could  be  let  out  to  a  person  falling  into 
the  water,  or  to  the  people  in  the  boat,  should  they  not  be  able  to  work 
her  with  the  oars. 
Thimday,  To-day  twelve  stones  were  landed  on  the  rock,  being  the  remainder 

yth  June. 

of  the  Patriot's  cargo;  and  the  artificers  built  the  thirty-ninth  course, 

consisting  of  fourteen  stones.  The  Bell  Rock  works  had  now  a  very 
busy  appearance,  as  the  lighthouse  was  daily  getting  more  into  form. 
Besides  the  artificers  and  their  cook,  the  writer  and  his  servant  were 
also  lodged  on  the  beacon,  counting  in  all  twenty-nine;  and  at  low- 
water  the  landing-master's  crew,  consisting  of  from  twelve  to  fifteen 
seamen,  were  employed  in  transporting  the  building  materials,  work- 
ing the  landing  apparatus  on  the  rock,  and  dragging  the  stone  waggons 
along  the  railways. 

Friday,  In  the  course  of  this  day  the  weather  varied  much.  In  the  morning 
it  was  calm,  in  the  middle  part  of  the  day  there  were  light  airs  of  wind 
from  the  south,  and  in  the  evening  fresh  breezes  from  the  east.  The 
barometer  in  the  writer's  cabin  in  the  beacon-house  oscillated  from  30 
inches  to  30.42,  and  the  weather  was  extremely  pleasant.  This,  in 
any  situation,  forms  one  of  the  chief  comforts  of  life  ;  but,  as  may 

340 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

easily  be  conceived,  it  was  doubly  so  to  people  stuck,  as  it  were,  upon        »8io 
a  pinnacle  in  the  middle  of  the  ocean. 
One  of  the  praam-boats  had  been  brought  to  the  rock  with  eleven  Sunday, 

loth  June. 

stones,  notwithstanding  the  perplexity  which  attended  the  getting  of 
those  formerly  landed  taken  up  to  the  building.  Mr.  Peter  Logan,  the 
foreman  builder,  interposed,  and  prevented  this  cargo  from  being  de- 
livered ;  but  the  landing-master's  crew  were  exceedingly  averse  to  this 
arrangement,  from  an  idea  that  "  ill  luck  "  would  in  future  attend  the 
praam,  her  cargo,  and  those  who  navigated  her,  from  thus  reversing 
her  voyage.  It  may  be  noticed  that  this  was  the  first  instance  of  a 
praam-boat  having  been  sent  from  the  Bell  Rock  with  any  part  of  her 
cargo  on  board,  and  was  considered  so  uncommon  an  occurrence  that 
it  became  a  topic  of  conversation  among  the  seamen  and  artificers. 

To-day  the  stones  formerly  sent  from  the  rock  were  safely  landed,  Tueiday, 
notwithstanding  the  augury  of  the  seamen,  in  consequence  of  their 
being  sent  away  two  days  before. 

To-day  twenty-seven  stones  and  eleven  joggle-pieces  were  landed,  Thurtday, 
part  of  which  consisted  of  the  forty-seventh  course,  forming  the  store- 
room floor.  The  builders  were  at  work  this  morning  by  four  o'clock, 
in  the  hopes  of  being  able  to  accomplish  the  laying  of  the  eighteen 
stones  of  this  course.  But  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  they  had  still 
two  to  lay,  and  as  the  stones  of  this  course  were  very  unwieldy,  being 
six  feet  in  length,  they  required  much  precaution  and  care  both  in  lift- 
ing and  laying  them.  It  was  only  on  the  writer's  suggestion  to  Mr. 
Logan  that  the  artificers  were  induced  to  leave  off,  as  they  had  in- 
tended to  complete  this  floor  before  going  to  bed.  The  two  remaining 
stones  were,  however,  laid  in  their  places  without  mortar  when  the 
bell  on  the  beacon  was  rung,  and,  all  hands  being  collected  on  the  top 
of  the  building,  three  hearty  cheers  were  given  on  covering  the  first 
apartment.  The  steward  then  served  out  a  dram  to  each,  when  the 
whole  retired  to  their  barrack  much  fatigued,  but  with  the  anticipation 
of  the  most  perfect  repose  even  in  the  "  hurricane-house,"  amidst  the 
dashing  seas  on  the  Bell  Rock. 

While  the  workmen  were  at  breakfast  and  dinner  it  was  the  writer's 
usual  practice  to  spend  his  time  on  the  walls  of  the  building,  which, 
notwithstanding  the  narrowness  of  the  track,  nevertheless  formed  his 
principal  walk  when  the  rock  was  under  water.  But  this  afternoon  he 

34 1 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'810  had  his  writing-desk  set  upon  the  storeroom  floor,  when  he  wrote  to  Mrs. 
Stevenson  —  certainly  the  first  letter  dated  from  the  Bell  Rock  Ligbt- 
bouse — giving  a  detail  of  the  fortunate  progress  of  the  work,  with  an 
assurance  that  the  lighthouse  would  soon  be  completed  at  the  rate  at 
which  it  now  proceeded  ;  and,  the  Patriot  having  sailed  for  Arbroath 
in  the  evening,  he  felt  no  small  degree  of  pleasure  in  despatching  this 
communication  to  his  family. 

The  weather  still  continuing  favourable  for  the  operations  at  the 
rock,  the  work  proceeded  with  much  energy,  through  the  exertions 
both  of  the  seamen  and  artificers.  For  the  more  speedy  and  effectual 
working  of  the  several  tackles  in  raising  the  materials  as  the  building 
advanced  in  height,  and  there  being  a  great  extent  of  railway  to  attend 
to,  which  required  constant  repairs,  two  additional  millwrights  were 
added  to  the  complement  on  the  rock,  which,  including  the  writer, 
now  counted  thirty-one  in  all.  So  crowded  was  the  men's  barrack 
that  the  beds  were  ranged  five  tier  in  height,  allowing  only  about  one 
foot  eight  inches  for  each  bed.  The  artificers  commenced  this  morn- 
ing at  five  o'clock,  and,  in  the  course  of  the  day,  they  laid  the  forty- 
eighth  and  forty-ninth  courses,  consisting  each  of  sixteen  blocks.  From 
the  favourable  state  of  the  weather,  and  the  regular  manner  in  which 
the  work  now  proceeded,  the  artificers  had  generally  from  four  to  seven 
extra  hours'  work,  which,  including  their  stated  wages  of  35.  4d., 
yielded  them  from  55.  4d.  to  about  6s.  lod.  per  day,  besides  their 
board  ;  even  the  postage  of  their  letters  was  paid  while  they  were  at 
the  Bell  Rock.  In  these  advantages  the  foremen  also  shared,  having 
about  double  the  pay  and  amount  of  premiums  of  the  artificers.  The 
seamen  being  less  out  of  their  element  in  the  Bell  Rock  operations  than 
the  landsmen,  their  premiums  consisted  in  a  slump  sum  payable  at  the 
end  of  the  season,  which  extended  from  three  to  ten  guineas. 

As  the  laying  of  the  floors  was  somewhat  tedious,  the  landing-mas- 
ter and  his  crew  had  got  considerably  beforehand  with  the  building 
artificers  in  bringing  materials  faster  to  the  rock  than  they  could  be 
built.  The  seamen  having,  therefore,  some  spare  time,  were  occa- 
sionally employed  during  fine  weather  in  dredging  or  grappling  for  the 
several  mushroom  anchors  and  mooring-chains  which  had  been  lost  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  Bell  Rock  during  the  progress  of  the  work  by  the 
breaking  loose  and  drifting  of  the  floating  buoys.  To  encourage  their 
exertions  in  this  search,  five  guineas  were  offered  is  a  premium  for  each 

342 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

set  they  should  find ;  and,  after  much  patient  application,  they  sue-       I8l° 
ceeded  to-day  in  hooking  one  of  these  lost  anchors  with  its  chain. 

It  was  a  general  remark  at  the  Bell  Rock,  as  before  noticed,  that  fish 
were  never  plenty  in  its  neighbourhood  excepting  in  good  weather. 
Indeed,  the  seamen  used  to  speculate  about  the  state  of  the  weather 
from  their  success  in  fishing.  When  the  fish  disappeared  at  the  rock, 
it  was  considered  a  sure  indication  that  a  gale  was  not  far  off,  as  the 
fish  seemed  to  seek  shelter  in  deeper  water  from  the  roughness  of  the 
sea  during  these  changes  in  the  weather.  At  this  time  the  rock,  at 
high  water,  was  completely  covered  with  podlies,  or  the  fry  of  the 
coal-fish,  about  six  or  eight  inches  in  length.  The  artificers  sometimes 
occupied  half  an  hour  after  breakfast  and  dinner  in  catching  these  little 
fishes,  but  were  more  frequently  supplied  from  the  boats  of  the  tender. 

The  landing-master  having  this  day  discharged  the  Smeaton  and  Saturday, 

i6th  June 

loaded  the  Hedderwick  and  Dickie  praam-boats  with  nineteen  stones, 
they  were  towed  to  their  respective  moorings,  when  Captain  Wilson, 
in  consequence  of  the  heavy  swell  of  sea,  came  in  his  boat  to  the 
beacon-house  to  consult  with  the  writer  as  to  the  propriety  of  ventur- 
ing the  loaded  praam-boats  with  their  cargoes  to  the  rock  while  so 
much  sea  was  running.  After  some  dubiety  expressed  on  the  subject, 
in  which  the  ardent  mind  of  the  landing-master  suggested  many  argu- 
ments in  favour  of  his  being  able  to  convey  the  praams  in  perfect  safety, 
it  was  acceded  to.  In  bad  weather,  and  especially  on  occasions  of 
difficulty  like  the  present,  Mr.  Wilson,  who  was  an  extremely  active 
seaman,  measuring  about  five  feet  three  inches  in  height,  of  a  robust 
habit,  generally  dressed  himself  in  what  he  called  a  monkey  jacket, 
made  of  thick  duffle  cloth,  with  a  pair  of  Dutchman's  petticoat  trou- 
sers, reaching  only  to  his  knees,  where  they  were  met  with  a  pair  of 
long  water-tight  boots  ;  with  this  dress,  his  glazed  hat,  and  his  small 
brass  speaking-trumpet  in  his  hand,  he  bade  defiance  to  the  weather. 
When  he  made  his  appearance  in  this  most  suitable  attire  for  the  ser- 
vice, his  crew  seemed  to  possess  additional  life,  never  failing  to  use 
their  utmost  exertions  when  the  captain  put  on  his  storm  rigging. 
They  had  this  morning  commenced  loading  the  praam-boats  at  four 
o'clock,  and  proceeded  to  tow  them  into  the  eastern  landing-place, 
which  was  accomplished  with  much  dexterity,  though  not  without  the 
risk  of  being  thrown,  by  the  force  of  the  sea,  on  certain  projecting 
ledges  of  the  rock.  In  such  a  case  the  loss  even  of  a  single  stone 

343 


A   FAMILY  OF   ENGINEERS 

1810  would  have  greatly  retarded  the  work.  For  the  greater  safety  in  en- 
tering the  creek,  it  was  necessary  to  put  out  several  warps  and  guy- 
ropes  to  guide  the  boats  into  its  narrow  and  intricate  entrance  ;  and  it 
frequently  happened  that  the  sea  made  a  clean  breach  over  the  praams, 
which  not  only  washed  their  decks,  but  completely  drenched  the  crew 
in  water. 
Sunday,  it  was  fortunate,  in  the  present  state  of  the  weather,  that  the  fiftieth 

iyth  June. 

course  was  in  a  sheltered  spot,  within  the  reach  of  the  tackle  of  the 
winch-machine  upon  the  bridge;  a  few  stones  were  stowed  upon  the 
bridge  itself,  and  the  remainder  upon  the  building,  which  kept  the 
artificers  at  work.  The  stowing  of  the  materials  upon  the  rock  was 
the  department  of  Alexander  Brebner,  mason,  who  spared  no  pains  in 
attending  to  the  safety  of  the  stones,  and  who,  in  the  present  state  of 
the  work,  when  the  stones  were  landed  faster  than  could  be  built, 
generally  worked  till  the  water  rose  to  his  middle.  At  one  o'clock  to- 
day the  bell  rung  for  prayers,  and  all  hands  were  collected  into  the 
upper  barrack-room  of  the  beacon-house,  when  the  usual  service  was 
performed. 

The  wind  blew  very  hard  in  the  course  of  last  night  from  N.E. ,  and 
to-day  the  sea  ran  so  high  that  no  boat  could  approach  the  rock. 
During  the  dinner-hour,  when  the  writer  was  going  to  the  top  of  the 
building  as  usual,  but  just  as  he  had  entered  the  door  and  was  about 
to  ascend  the  ladder,  a  great  noise  was  heard  overhead,  and  in  an  in- 
stant he  was  soused  in  water  from  a  sea  which  had  most  unexpectedly 
come  over  the  walls,  though  now  about  fifty-eight  feet  in  height.  On 
making  his  retreat,  he  found  himself  completely  whitened  by  the  lime, 
which  had  mixed  with  the  water  while  dashing  down  through  the  dif- 
ferent floors;  and,  as  nearly  as  he  could  guess,  a  quantity  equal  to 
about  a  hogshead  had  come  over  the  walls,  and  now  streamed  out  at 
the  door.  After  having  shifted  himself,  he  again  sat  down  in  his  cabin, 
the  sea  continuing  to  run  so  high  that  the  builders  did  not  resume  their 
operations  on  the  walls  this  afternoon.  The  incident  just  noticed  did 
not  create  more  surprise  in  the  mind  of  the  writer  than  the  sublime  ap- 
pearance of  the  waves  as  they  rolled  majestically  over  the  rock.  This 
scene  he  greatly  enjoyed  while  sitting  at  his  cabin  window;  each 
wave  approached  the  beacon  like  a  vast  scroll  unfolding;  and  in  passing 
discharged  a  quantity  of  air,  which  he  not  only  distinctly  felt,  but  was 
even  sufficient  to  lift  the  leaves  of  a  book  which  lay  before  him.  These 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

waves  might  be  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  height,  and  about  250  feet  in  1810 
length,  their  smaller  end  being  towards  the  north,  where  the  water 
was  deep,  and  they  were  opened  or  cut  through  by  the  interposition 
of  the  building  and  beacon.  The  gradual  manner  in  which  the  sea, 
upon  these  occasions,  is  observed  to  become  calm  or  to  subside,  is  a 
very  remarkable  feature  of  this  phenomenon.  For  example,  when  a 
gale  is  succeeded  by  a  calm,  every  third  or  fourth  wave  forms  one  of 
these  great  seas,  which  occur  in  spaces  of  from  three  to  five  minutes, 
as  noted  by  the  writer's  watch ;  but  in  the  course  of  the  next  tide  they 
become  less  frequent,  and  take  off  so  as  to  occur  only  in  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes;  and,  singular  enough,  at  the  third  tide  after  such  gales,  the 
writer  has  remarked  that  only  one  or  two  of  these  great  waves  appear 
in  the  course  of  the  whole  tide. 

The  i  pth  was  a  very  unpleasant  and  disagreeable  day,  both  for  the  Tuesday 
seamen  and  artificers,  as  it  rained  throughout  with  little  intermission 
from  four  a.m.  till  eleven  p.m.,  accompanied  with  thunder  and  light- 
ning, during  which  period  the  work  nevertheless  continued  unremit- 
tingly, and  the  builders  laid  the  fifty-first  and  fifty-second  courses. 
This  state  of  weather  was  no  less  severe  upon  the  mortar-makers,  who 
required  to  temper  or  prepare  the  mortar  of  a  thicker  or  thinner  consist- 
ency, in  some  measure,  according  to  the  state  of  the  weather.  From 
the  elevated  position  of  the  building  the  mortar  gallery  on  the  beacon 
was  now  much  lower,  and  the  lime-buckets  were  made  to  traverse 
upon  a  rope  distended  between  it  and  the  building.  On  occasions  like 
the  present,  however,  there  was  often  a  difference  of  opinion  between 
the  builders  and  the  mortar-makers.  John  Watt,  who  had  the  princi- 
pal charge  of  the  mortar,  was  a  most  active  worker,  but,  being  some- 
what of  an  irascible  temper,  the  builders  occasionally  amused  them- 
selves at  his  expense :  for  while  he  was  eagerly  at  work  with  his  large 
iron-shod  pestle  in  the  mortar-tub,  they  often  sent  down  contradictory 
orders,  some  crying,  "  Make  it  a  little  stiffer,  or  thicker,  John,"  while 
others  called  out  to  make  it  "  thinner,"  to  which  he  generally  returned 
very  speedy  and  sharp  replies,  so  that  these  conversations  at  times 
were  rather  amusing. 

During  wet  weather  the  situation  of  the  artificers  on  the  top  of  the 
building  was  extremely  disagreeable;  for  although  their  work  did  not 
require  great  exertion,  yet,  as  each  man  had  his  particular  part  to  per- 
form, either  in  working  the  crane  or  in  laying  the  stones,  it  required 

345 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1810  the  closest  application  and  attention,  not  only  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Petet 
Logan,  the  foreman,  who  was  constantly  on  the  walls,  but  also  of  the 
chief  workmen.  Robert  Selkirk,  the  principal  builder,  for  example,  had 
every  stone  to  lay  in  its  place.  David  Gumming,  a  mason,  had  the 
charge  of  working  the  tackle  of  the  balance-weight,  and  James  Scott, 
also  a  mason,  took  charge  of  the  purchase  with  which  the  stones  were 
laid;  while  the  pointing  the  joints  of  the  walls  with  cement  was  in- 
trusted to  William  Reid  and  William  Kennedy,  who  stood  upon  a  scaffold 
suspended  over  the  walls  in  rather  a  frightful  manner.  The  least  act 
of  carelessness  or  inattention  on  the  part  of  any  of  these  men  might 
have  been  fatal,  not  only  to  themselves,  but  also  to  the  surrounding 
workmen,  especially  if  any  accident  had  happened  to  the  crane  itself, 
while  the  material  damage  or  loss  of  a  single  stone  would  have  put  an 
entire  stop  to  the  operations  until  another  could  have  been  brought 
from  Arbroath.  The  artificers,  having  wrought  seven  and  a  half  hours 
of  extra  time  to-day,  had  35.  gd.  of  extra  pay,  while  the  foremen  had 
75.  6d.  over  and  above  their  stated  pay  and  board.  Although,  there- 
fore, the  work  was  both  hazardous  and  fatiguing,  yet,  the  encourage- 
ment being  considerable,  they  were  always  very  cheerful,  and  perfectly 
reconciled  to  the  confinement  and  other  disadvantages  of  the  place. 

During  fine  weather,  and  while  the  nights  were  short,  the  duty  on 
board  of  the  floating  light  was  literally  nothing  but  a  waiting  on,  and 
therefore  one  of  her  boats,  with  a  crew  of  five  men,  daily  attended  the 
rock,  but  always  returned  to  the  vessel  at  night.  The  carpenter, 
however,  was  one  of  those  who  was  left  on  board  of  the  ship,  as  he 
also  acted  in  the  capacity  of  assistant  lightkeeper,  being,  besides,  a 
person  who  was  apt  to  feel  discontent  and  to  be  averse  to  changing  his 
quarters,  especially  to  work  with  the  millwrights  and  joiners  at  the 
rock,  who  often,  for  hours  together,  wrought  knee-deep,  and  not  un- 
frequently  up  to  the  middle  in  water.  Mr.  Watt  having  about  this 
time  made  a  requisition  for  another  hand,  the  carpenter  was  ordered  to 
attend  the  rock  in  the  floating  light's  boat.  This  he  did  with  great 
reluctance,  and  found  so  much  fault  that  he  soon  got  into  discredit 
with  his  messmates.  On  this  occasion  he  left  the  Lighthouse  service, 
and  went  as  a  sailor  in  a  vessel  bound  for  America  —  a  step  which,  it 
is  believed,  he  soon  regretted,  as,  in  the  course  of  things,  he  would,  in 
all  probability,  have  accompanied  Mr.  John  Reid,  the  principal  light- 
keeper  of  the  floating  light,  to  the  Bell  Rock  Lighthouse  as  his  princi- 

346 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

pal  assistant.  The  writer  had  a  wish  to  be  of  service  to  this  man,  as  l8l° 
he  was  one  of  those  who  came  off  to  the  floating  light  in  the  month  of 
September  1807,  while  she  was  riding  at  single  anchor  after  the  severe 
gale  of  the  yth,  at  a  time  when  it  was  hardly  possible  to  make  up  this 
vessel's  crew;  but  the  crossness  of  his  manner  prevented  his  reaping 
the  benefit  of  such  intentions. 

The  building  operations  had  for  some  time  proceeded  more  slowly,  Friday, 
from  the  higher  parts  of  the  lighthouse  requiring  much  longer  time  "nd  Junft 
than  an  equal  tonnage  of  the  lower  courses.  The  duty  of  the  landing- 
master's  crew  had,  upon  the  whole,  been  easy  of  late;  for  though  the 
work  was  occasionally  irregular,  yet  the  stones  being  lighter,  they  were 
more  speedily  lifted  from  the  hold  of  the  stone  vessel  to  the  deck  of  the 
praam-boat,  and  again  to  the  waggons  on  the  railway,  after  which 
they  came  properly  under  the  charge  of  the  foreman  builder.  It  is, 
however,  a  strange,  though  not  an  uncommon,  feature  in  the  human 
character,  that,  when  people  have  least  to  complain  of  they  are  most 
apt  to  become  dissatisfied,  as  was  now  the  case  with  the  seamen  em- 
ployed in  the  Bell  Rock  service  about  their  rations  of  beer.  Indeed, 
ever  since  the  carpenter  of  the  floating  light,  formerly  noticed,  had  been 
brought  to  the  rock,  expressions  of  discontent  had  been  manifested 
upon  various  occasions.  This  being  represented  to  the  writer,  he  sent 
for  Captain  Wilson,  the  landing-master,  and  Mr.  Taylor,  commander 
of  the  tender,  with  whom  he  talked  over  the  subject.  They  stated 
that  they  considered  the  daily  allowance  of  the  seamen  in  every  respect 
ample,  and  that,  the  work  being  now  much  lighter  than  formerly,  they 
had  no  just  ground  for  complaint;  Mr.  Taylor  adding  that,  if  those 
who  now  complained  "were  even  to  be  fed  upon  soft  bread  and 
turkeys,  they  would  not  think  themselves  right."  At  twelve  noon  the 
work  of  the  landing-master's  crew  was  completed  for  the  day;  but  at 
four  o'clock,  while  the  rock  was  under  water,  those  on  the  beacon 
were  surprised  by  the  arrival  of  a  boat  from  the  tender  without  any 
signal  having  been  made  from  the  beacon.  It  brought  the  following 
note  to  the  writer  from  the  landing-master's  crew :  — 

"  Sir  Joseph  Banks  Tender. 

"  SIR,  — We  are  informed  by  our  masters  that  our  allowance  is  to  be 
as  before,  and  it  is  not  sufficient  to  serve  us,  for  we  have  been  at  work 
since  four  o'clock  this  morning,  and  we  have  come  on  board  to  dinner, 

347 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

'8'°  and  there  is  no  beer  for  us  before  to-morrow  morning,  to  which  a  suffi- 
cient answer  is  required  before  we  go  from  the  beacon ;  and  we  are, 
Sir,  your  most  obedient  servants." 

On  reading  this,  the  writer  returned  a  verbal  message,  intimating 
that  an  answer  would  be  sent  on  board  of  the  tender,  at  the  same  time 
ordering  the  boat  instantly  to  quit  the  beacon.  He  then  addressed  the 
following  note  to  the  landing-master : — 

"Beacon-bouse,  zzndjune,  1810, 
Five  o'clock  p.  m. 

"Sm,  —  I  have  just  now  received  a  letter  purporting  to  be  from  the 
landing-master's  crew  and  seamen  on  board  of  the  Sir  Joseph  Banks, 
though  without  either  date  or  signature;  in  answer  to  which  I  enclose  a 
statement  of  the  daily  allowance  of  provisions  for  the  seamen  in  this 
service,  which  you  will  post  up  in  the  ship's  galley,  and  at  seven 
o'clock  this  evening  I  will  come  on  board  to  inquire  into  this  unex- 
pected and  most  unnecessary  demand  for  an  additional  allowance  of 
beer.  In  the  enclosed  you  will  not  find  any  alteration  from  the  orig- 
inal statement,  fixed  in  the  galley  at  the  beginning  of  the  season.  I 
have,  however,  judged  this  mode  of  giving  your  people  an  answer 
preferable  to  that  of  conversing  with  them  on  the  beacon.  —  I  am,  Sir, 
your  most  obedient  servant. 

"  ROBERT  STEVENSON. 

"To  CAPTAIN  WILSON." 

"  Beacon  House,  22nd  June  1810.  —  Schedule  of  the  daily  allowance 
of  provisions  to  be  served  out  on  board  of  the  Sir  Joseph  Banks  tender: 
"  \%  Ib.  beef;  i  Ib.  bread  ;  8  oz.  oat  rneal ;  2  oz.  barley  ;  2  oz.  but- 
ter ;  3  quarts  beer  ;  vegetables  and  salt  no  stated  allowance.  When 
the  seamen  are  employed  in  unloading  the  Smeaton  and  Patriot,  a 
draught  of  beer  is,  as  formerly,  to  be  allowed  from  the  stock  of  these 
vessels.  Further,  in  wet  and  stormy  weather,  when  the  work  com- 
mences very  early  in  the  morning,  or  continues  till  a  late  hour  at  night, 
a  glass  of  spirits  will  also  be  served  out  to  the  crew  as  heretofore,  on 

the  requisition  of  the  landing-master." 

"  ROBERT  STEVENSON." 

On  writing  this  letter  and  schedule,  a  signal  was  made  on  the  beacon 
for  the  landing-master's  boat,  which  immediately  came  to  the  rock, 

348 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL   ROCK 

and  the  schedule  was  afterwards  stuck  up  in  the  tender's  galley.  1810 
When  sufficient  time  had  been  allowed  to  the  crew  to  consider  of  their 
conduct,  a  second  signal  was  made  for  a  boat,  and  at  seven  o'clock 
the  writer  left  the  Bell  Rock,  after  a  residence  of  four  successive  weeks 
in  the  beacon-house.  The  first  thing  which  occupied  his  attention  on 
board  of  the  tender  was  to  look  round  upon  the  lighthouse,  which  he 
saw,  with  some  degree  of  emotion  and  surprise,  now  vying  in  height 
with  the  beacon-house;  for  although  he  had  often  viewed  it  from  the 
extremity  of  the  western  railway  on  the  rock,  yet  the  scene,  upon  the 
whole,  seemed  far  more  interesting  from  the  tender's  moorings  at  the 
distance  of  about  half  a  mile. 

The  Smeaton  having  just  arrived  at  her  moorings  with  a  cargo,  a 
signal  was  made  for  Captain  Pool  to  come  on  board  of  the  tender,  that 
he  might  be  at  hand  to  remove  from  the  service  any  of  those  who 
might  persist  in  their  discontented  conduct.  One  of  the  two  principal 
leaders  in  this  affair,  the  master  of  one  of  the  praam-boats,  who  had  also 
steered  the  boat  which  brought  the  letter  to  the  beacon,  was  first  called 
upon  deck,  and  asked  if  he  had  read  the  statement  fixed  up  in  the  gal- 
ley this  afternoon,  and  whether  he  was  satisfied  with  it.  He  replied 
that  he  had  read  the  paper,  but  was  not  satisfied,  as  it  held  out  no  al- 
teration on  the  allowance,  on  which  he  was  immediately  ordered  into 
the  Smeaton's  boat.  The  next  man  called  had  but  lately  entered  the 
service,  and,  being  also  interrogated  as  to  his  resolution,  he  declared 
himself  to  be  of  the  same  mind  with  the  praam-master,  and  was  also 
forthwith  ordered  into  the  boat.  The  writer,  without  calling  any  more 
of  the  seamen,  went  forward  to  the  gangway,  where  they  were  col- 
lected and  listening  to  what  was  passing  upon  deck.  He  addressed 
them  at  the  hatchway,  and  stated  that  two  of  their  companions  had 
just  been  dismissed  the  service  and  sent  on  board  of  the  Smeaton  to  be 
conveyed  to  Arbroath.  He  therefore  wished  each  man  to  consider  for 
himself  how  far  it  would  be  proper,  by  any  unreasonableness  of  con- 
duct, to  place  themselves  in  a  similar  situation,  especially  as  they  were 
aware  that  it  was  optional  in  him  either  to  dismiss  them  or  send  them 
on  board  a  man-of-war.  It  might  appear  that  much  inconveniency 
would  be  felt  at  the  rock  by  a  change  of  hands  at  this  critical  period, 
by  checking  for  a  time  the  progress  of  a  building  so  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  best  interests  of  navigation;  yet  this  would  be  but  of 
a  temporary  nature,  while  the  injury  to  themselves  might  be  irrepar- 

349 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1810  able.  It  was  now,  therefore,  required  of  any  man  who,  in  this  dis- 
graceful manner,  chose  to  leave  the  service,  that  he  should  instantly 
make  his  appearance  on  deck  while  the  Smeaton's  boat  was  alongside. 
But  those  below  having  expressed  themselves  satisfied  with  their  sit- 
uation—  viz.,  William  Brown,  George  Gibb,  Alexander  Scott,  John 
Dick,  Robert  Couper,  Alexander  Shephard,  James  Grieve,  David  Carey, 
William  Pearson,  Stuart  Eaton,  Alexander  Lawrence,  and  John  Spink 
—  were  accordingly  considered  as  having  returned  to  their  duty.  This 
disposition  to  mutiny,  which  had  so  strongly  manifested  itself,  being 
now  happily  suppressed,  Captain  Pool  got  orders  to  proceed  for  Ar- 
broath  Bay,  and  land  the  two  men  he  had  on  board,  and  to  deliver 
the  following  letter  at  the  office  of  the  workyard  :  — 

"On  board  of  the  Tender  off  the  Bell  Rock, 
22nd  June,  1810,  eight  o'clock  p.m. 

"  DEAR  SIR, —  A  discontented  and  mutinous  spirit  having  manifested 
itself  of  late  among  the  landing-master's  crew,  they  struck  work  to- 
day and  demanded  an  additional  allowance  of  beer,  and  I  have  found 

it  necessary  to  dismiss  D d  and  M e,  who  are  now  sent  on 

shore  with  the  Smeaton.  You  will  therefore  be  so  good  as  to  pay 
them  their  wages,  including  this  day  only.  Nothing  can  be  more  un- 
reasonable than  the  conduct  of  the  seamen  on  this  occasion,  as  the 
landing-master's  crew  not  only  had  their  own  allowance  on  board  of 
the  tender,  but,  in  the  course  of  this  day,  they  had  drawn  no  fewer 
than  twenty-four  quart  pots  of  beer  from  the  stock  of  the  Patriot 
while  unloading  her. —  I  remain,  yours  truly, 

"  ROBERT  STEVENSON. 

"  To  MR.  LACHLAN  KENNEDY, 
Bell  Rock  Office,  Arbroath." 

On  despatching  this  letter  to  Mr.  Kennedy,  the  writer  returned  to 
the  beacon  about  nine  o'clock,  where  this  afternoon's  business  had 
produced  many  conjectures,  especially  when  the  Smeaton  got  under 
weigh,  instead  of  proceeding  to  land  her  cargo.  The  bell  on  the  bea- 
con being  rung,  the  artificers  were  assembled  on  the  bridge,  when  the 
affair  was  explained  to  them.  He,  at  the  same  time,  congratulated 
them  upon  the  first  appearance  of  mutiny  being  happily  set  at  rest  by 
the  dismissal  of  its  two  principal  abettors. 

350 


THE   BUILDING   OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

At  the  rock,  the  landing  of  the  materials  and  the  building  operations        1810 
of  the  light-room  store  went  on  successfully,  and  in  a  way  similar  to  z+th  June. 


those  of  the  provision  store.  To-day  it  blew  fresh  breezes;  but  the 
seamen  nevertheless  landed  twenty-eight  stones,  and  the  artificers 
built  the  fifty-eighth  and  fifty-ninth  courses.  The  works  were  visited 
by  Mr.  Murdoch,  junior,  from  Messrs.  Boulton  and  Watt's  works  of 
Soho.  He  landed  just  as  the  bell  rung  for  prayers,  after  which  the 
writer  enjoyed  much  pleasure  from  his  very  intelligent  conversation  ; 
and,  having  been  almost  the  only  stranger  he  had  seen  for  some  weeks, 
he  parted  with  him,  after  a  short  interview,  with  much  regret. 

Last  night  the  wind  had  shifted  to  north-east,  and,  blowing  fresh,  Thursday, 
was  accompanied  with  a  heavy  surf  upon  the  rock.  Towards  high- 
water  it  had  a  very  grand  and  wonderful  appearance.  Waves  of  con- 
siderable magnitude  rose  as  high  as  the  solid  or  level  of  the  entrance- 
door,  which,  being  open  to  the  south-west,  was  fortunately  to  the 
leeward;  but  on  the  windward  side  the  sprays  flew  like  lightning  up 
the  sloping  sides  of  the  building;  and  although  the  walls  were  now 
elevated  sixty-four  feet  above  the  rock,  and  about  fifty-two  feet  from 
high-water  mark,  yet  the  artificers  were  nevertheless  wetted,  and  occa- 
sionally interrupted,  in  their  operations  on  the  top  of  the  walls.  These 
appearances  were  in  a  great  measure  new  at  the  Bell  Rock,  there  hav- 
ing till  of  late  been  no  building  to  conduct  the  seas,  or  object  to  com- 
pare with  them.  Although,  from  the  description  of  the  Eddystone 
Lighthouse,  the  mind  was  prepared  for  such  effects,  yet  they  were  not 
expected  to  the  present  extent  in  the  summer  season;  the  sea  being 
most  awful  to-day,  whether  observed  from  the  beacon  or  the  building. 
To  windward,  the  sprays  fell  from  the  height  above  noticed  in  the  most 
wonderful  cascades,  and  streamed  down  the  walls  of  the  building  in 
froth  as  white  as  snow.  To  leeward  of  the  lighthouse  the  collision  or 
meeting  of  the  waves  produced  a  pure  white  kind  of  drift;  it  rose 
about  thirty  feet  in  height,  like  a  fine  downy  mist,  which,  in  its  fall, 
felt  upon  the  face  and  hands  more  like  a  dry  powder  than  a  liquid 
substance.  The  effects  of  these  seas,  as  they  raged  among  the  beams 
and  dashed  upon  the  higher  parts  of  the  beacon,  produced  a  temporary 
tremulous  motion  throughout  the  whole  fabric,  which  to  a  stranger 
must  have  been  frightful. 

The  writer  had  now  been  at  the  Bell  Rock  since  the  latter  end  of  sanday, 
May,  or  about  six  weeks,  during  four  of  which  he  had  been  a  constant  m  July* 

35' 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1810  inhabitant  of  the  beacon  without  having  been  once  off  the  rock.  After 
witnessing  the  laying  of  the  sixty-seventh  or  second  course  of  the  bed- 
room apartment,  he  left  the  rock  with  the  tender  and  went  ashore,  as 
some  arrangements  were  to  be  made  for  the  future  conduct  of  the 
works  at  Arbroath,  which  were  soon  to  be  brought  to  a  close;  the 
landing-master's  crew  having,  in  the  meantime,  shifted  on  board  of  the 
Patriot.  In  leaving  the  rock,  the  writer  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
lighthouse,  which  had  recently  got  into  the  form  of  a  house,  having 
several  tiers  or  stories  of  windows.  Nor  was  he  unmindful  of  his  habi- 
tation in  the  beacon  —  now  far  overtopped  by  the  masonry, —  where 
he  had  spent  several  weeks  in  a  kind  of  active  retirement,  making 
practical  experiment  of  the  fewness  of  the  positive  wants  of  man.  His 
cabin  measured  not  more  than  four  feet  three  inches  in  breadth  on  the 
floor;  and  though,  from  the  oblique  direction  of  the  beams  of  the  bea- 
con, it  widened  towards  the  top,  yet  it  did  not  admit  of  the  full  exten- 
sion of  his  arms  when  he  stood  on  the  floor;  while  its  length  was  little 
more  than  sufficient  for  suspending  a  cot-bed  during  the  night,  calcu- 
lated for  being  triced  up  to  the  roof  through  the  day,  which  left  free 
room  for  the  admission  of  occasional  visitants.  His  folding  table  was 
attached  with  hinges,  immediately  under  the  small  window  of  the 
apartment,  and  his  books,  barometer,  thermometer,  portmanteau,  and 
two  or  three  camp-stools,  formed  the  bulk  of  his  movables.  His  diet 
being  plain,  the  paraphernalia  of  the  table  were  proportionally  simple; 
though  everything  had  the  appearance  of  comfort,  and  even  of  neatness, 
the  walls  being  covered  with  green  cloth  formed  into  panels  with  red 
tape,  and  his  bed  festooned  with  curtains  of  yellow  cotton-stuff.  If, 
in  speculating  upon  the  abstract  wants  of  man  in  such  a  state  of  exclu- 
sion, one  were  reduced  to  a  single  book,  the  Sacred  Volume  —  whe- 
ther considered  for  the  striking  diversity  of  its  story,  the  morality  of  its 
doctrine,  or  the  important  truths  of  its  gospel  —  would  have  proved  by 
far  the  greatest  treasure. 

Monday,  In  walking  over  the  workyard  at  Arbroath  this  morning,  the  writer 
J'  found  that  the  stones  of  the  course  immediately  under  the  cornice  were 
all  in  hand,  and  that  a  week's  work  would  now  finish  the  whole,  while 
the  intermediate  courses  lay  ready  numbered  and  marked  for  shipping 
to  the  rock.  Among  other  subjects  which  had  occupied  his  attention 
to-day  was  a  visit  from  some  of  the  relations  of  George  Dall,  a  young 
man  who  had  been  impressed  near  Dundee  in  the  month  of  February 

35* 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL   ROCK 

last;  a  dispute  had  arisen  between  the  magistrates  of  that  burgh  and  >8io 
the  Regulating  Officer  as  to  his  right  of  impressing  Dall,  who  was 
bona  fide  one  of  the  protected  seamen  in  the  Bell  Rock  service.  In  the 
meantime,  the  poor  lad  was  detained,  and  ultimately  committed  to 
the  prison  of  Dundee,  to  remain  until  the  question  should  be  tried  be- 
fore the  Court  of  Session.  His  friends  were  naturally  very  desirous  to 
have  him  relieved  upon  bail.  But,  as  this  was  only  to  be  done  by  the 
judgment  of  the  Court,  all  that  could  be  said  was  that  his  pay  and 
allowances  should  be  continued  in  the  same  manner  as  if  he  had  been 
upon  the  sick-list.  The  circumstances  of  Dall's  case  were  briefly 
these :  —  He  had  gone  to  see  some  of  his  friends  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  Dundee,  in  winter,  while  the  works  were  suspended,  having  got 
leave  of  absence  from  Mr.  Taylor,  who  commanded  the  Bell  Rock  ten- 
der, and  had  in  his  possession  one  of  the  Protection  Medals.  Unfortu- 
nately, however,  for  Dall,  the  Regulating  Officer  thought  proper  to 
disregard  these  documents,  as,  according  to  the  strict  and  literal  inter- 
pretation of  the  Admiralty  regulations,  a  seaman  does  not  stand  pro- 
tected unless  he  is  actually  on  board  of  his  ship,  or  in  a  boat  belonging 
to  her,  or  has  the  Admiralty  protection  in  his  possession.  This  order 
of  the  Board,  however,  cannot  be  rigidly  followed  in  practice;  and 
therefore,  when  the  matter  is  satisfactorily  stated  to  the  Regulating 
Officer,  the  impressed  man  is  generally  liberated.  But  in  Dall's  case 
this  was  peremptorily  refused,  and  he  was  retained  at  the  instance  of 
the  magistrates.  The  writer  having  brought  the  matter  under  the  con- 
sideration of  the  Commissioners  of  the  Northern  Lighthouses,  they 
authorized  it  to  be  tried  on  the  part  of  the  Lighthouse  Board,  as  one 
of  extreme  hardship.  The  Court,  upon  the  first  hearing,  ordered  Dall 
to  be  liberated  from  prison;  and  the  proceedings  never  went  further. 

Being  now  within  twelve  courses  of  being  ready  for  building  the  cor-  Wedn«id 
nice,  measures  were  taken  for  getting  the  stones  of  it  and  the  parapet- 
wall  of  the  light-room  brought  from  Edinburgh,  where,  as  before  no- 
ticed, they  had  been  prepared  and  were  in  readiness  for  shipping. 
The  honour  of  conveying  the  upper  part  of  the  lighthouse,  and  of 
landing  the  last  stone  of  the  building  on  the  rock,  was  considered  to 
belong  to  Captain  Pool  of  the  Smeaton,  who  had  been  longer  in  the 
service  than  the  master  of  the  Patriot.  The  Smeaton  was,  therefore, 
now  partly  loaded  with  old  iron,  consisting  of  broken  railways  and 
other  lumber  which  had  been  lying  about  the  rock.  After  landing 

353 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1810  these  at  Arbroath,  she  took  on  board  James  Craw,  with  his  horse  and 
cart,  which  could  now  be  spared  at  the  workyard,  to  be  employed  in 
carting  the  stones  from  Edinburgh  to  Leith.  Alexander  Davidson  and 
William  Kennedy,  two  careful  masons,  were  also  sent  to  take  charge 
of  the  loading  of  the  stones  at  Greenside  and  stowing  them  on  board 
of  the  vessel  at  Leith.  The  writer  also  went  on  board,  with  a  view  to 
call  at  the  Bell  Rock  and  to  take  his  passage  up  the  Firth  of  Forth.  The 
wind,  however,  coming  to  blow  very  fresh  from  the  eastward,  with 
thick  and  foggy  weather,  it  became  necessary  to  reef  the  mainsail  and 
set  the  second-jib.  When  in  the  act  of  making  a  tack  towards  the 
tender,  the  sailors  who  worked  the  head-sheets  were,  all  of  a  sudden, 
alarmed  with  the  sound  of  a  smith's  hammer  and  anvil  on  the  beacon, 
and  had  just  time  to  put  the  ship  about  to  save  her  from  running  ashore 
on  the  north-western  point  of  the  rock,  marked  "James  Craw's 
Horse."  On  looking  towards  the  direction  from  whence  the  sound 
came,  the  building  and  beacon-house  were  seen,  with  consternation, 
while  the  ship  was  hailed  by  those  on  the  rock,  who  were  no  less  con' 
founded  at  seeing  the  near  approach  of  the  Smeaton;  and,  just  as  the 
vessel  cleared  the  danger,  the  smith  and  those  in  the  mortar  gallery 
made  signs  in  token  of  their  happiness  at  our  fortunate  escape.  From 
this  occurrence  the  writer  had  an  experimental  proof  of  the  utility  of  the 
large  bells  which  were  in  preparation  to  be  rung  by  the  machinery  of 
the  revolving  light;  for,  had  it  not  been  the  sound  of  the  smith's  anvil, 
the  Smeaton,  in  all  probability,  would  have  been  wrecked  upon  the 
rock.  In  case  the  vessel  had  struck,  those  on  board  might  have  been 
safe,  having  now  the  beacon-house  as  a  place  of  refuge;  but  the  vessel, 
which  was  going  at  a  great  velocity,  must  have  suffered  severely,  and 
it  was  more  than  probable  that  the  horse  would  have  been  drowned, 
there  being  no  means  of  getting  him  out  of  the  vessel.  Of  this  valuable 
animal  and  his  master  we  shall  take  an  opportunity  of  saying  more  in 
another  place. 

Thurtdty,  The  weather  cleared  up  in  the  course  of  the  night,  but  the  wind 
jth  juij.  shifted  to  the  N .£.  and  blew  very  fresh.  From  the  force  of  the  wind, 
being  now  the  period  of  spring-tides,  a  very  heavy  swell  was  expe- 
rienced at  the  rock.  At  two  o'clock  on  the  following  morning  the  peo- 
ple on  the  beacon  were  in  a  state  of  great  alarm  about  their  safely,  as 
the  sea  had  broke  up  part  of  the  floor  of  the  mortar  gallery,  which  was 
thus  cleared  of  the  lime-casks  and  other  buoyant  articles;  and,  the 

354 


THE  BUILDING   OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

aTarm-bell  being  rung,  all  hands  were  called  to  render  what  assistance  '810 
was  in  their  power  for  the  safety  of  themselves  and  the  materials.  At 
this  time  some  would  willingly  have  left  the  beacon  and  gone  into  the 
building:  the  sea,  however,  ran  so  high  that  there  was  no  passage 
along  the  bridge  of  communication,  and,  when  the  interior  of  the 
lighthouse  came  to  be  examined  in  the  morning,  it  appeared  that  great 
quantities  of  water  had  come  over  the  walls  —  now  eighty  feet  in 
height  —  and  had  run  down  through  the  several  apartments  and  out 
at  the  entrance  door. 

The  upper  course  of  the  lighthouse  at  the  workyard  of  Arbroath  was 
completed  on  the  6th,  and  the  whole  of  the  stones  were,  therefore, 
now  ready  for  being  shipped  to  the  rock.  From  the  present  state  of 
the  works  it  was  impossible  that  the  two  squads  of  artificers  at  Ar- 
broath and  the  Bell  Rock  could  meet  together  at  this  period;  and  as 
in  public  works  of  this  kind,  which  had  continued  for  a  series  of  years, 
it  is  not  customary  to  allow  the  men  to  separate  without  what  is  termed 
a  "  finishing-pint,"  five  guineas  were  for  this  purpose  placed  at  the 
disposal  of  Mr.  David  Logan,  clerk  of  works.  With  this  sum  the 
stone-cutters  at  Arbroath  had  a  merry  meeting  in  their  barrack,  col- 
lected their  sweethearts  and  friends,  and  concluded  their  labours  with 
a  dance.  It  was  remarked,  however,  that  their  happiness  on  this  oc- 
casion was  not  without  alloy.  The  consideration  of  parting  and  leav- 
ing a  steady  and  regular  employment,  to  go  in  quest  of  work  and  mix 
with  other  society,  after  having  been  harmoniously  lodged  for  years 
together  in  one  large  "  guildhall  or  barrack,"  was  rather  painful. 

While  the  writer  was  at  Edinburgh  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  meet  Friday, 
with  Mrs.  Dickson,  only  daughter  of  the  late  celebrated  Mr.  Smeaton,  ^  •'aly* 
whose  works  at  the  Eddystone  Lighthouse  had  been  of  such  essential 
consequence  to  the  operations  at  the  Bell  Rock.  Even  her  own  ele- 
gant accomplishments  are  identified  with  her  father's  work,  she  having 
herself  made  the  drawing  of  the  vignette  on  the  title-page  of  the  Nar- 
rative of  the  Eddystone  Lighthouse.  Every  admirer  of  the  works  of 
that  singularly  eminent  man  must  also  feel  an  obligation  to  her  for  the 
very  comprehensive  and  distinct  account  given  of  his  life,  which  is  at- 
tached to  his  reports,  published,  in  three  volumes  quarto,  by  the  So- 
ciety of  Civil  Engineers.  Mrs.  Dickson,  being  at  this  time  returning 
from  a  tour  to  the  Hebrides  and  Western  Highlands  of  Scotland,  had 
heard  of  the  Bell  Rock  works,  and  from  their  similarity  to  those  of  the 

355 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1810  Eddystone,  was  strongly  impressed  with  a  desire  of  visiting  the  spot. 
But  on  inquiring  for  the  writer  at  Edinburgh,  and  finding  from  him 
that  the  upper  part  of  the  lighthouse,  consisting  of  nine  courses,  might 
be  seen  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  and  also  that  one  of  the  vessels, 
which,  in  compliment  to  her  father's  memory,  had  been  named  the 
Smeaton,  might  also  now  be  seen  in  Leith,  she  considered  herself  ex- 
tremely fortunate;  and  having  first  visited  the  works  at  Greenside,  she 
afterwards  went  to  Leith  to  see  the  Smeaton,  then  loading  for  the  Bell 
Rock.  On  stepping  on  board,  Mrs.  Dickson  seemed  to  be  quite  over- 
come with  so  many  concurrent  circumstances,  tending  in  a  peculiar 
manner  to  revive  and  enliven  the  memory  of  her  departed  father,  and 
on  leaving  the  vessel  she  would  not  be  restrained  from  presenting  the 
crew  with  a  piece  of  money.  The  Smeaton  had  been  named  spon- 
taneously, from  a  sense  of  the  obligation  which  a  public  work  of  the 
description  of  the  Bell  Rock  owed  to  the  labours  and  abilities  of  Mr. 
Smeaton.  The  writer  certainly  never  could  have  anticipated  the  sat- 
isfaction which  he  this  day  felt  in  witnessing  the  pleasure  it  afforded  to 
the  only  representative  of  this  great  man's  family. 

Friday,  The  gale  from  the  N.  E.  still  continued  so  strong,  accompanied  with 
'a  heavy  sea,  that  the  Patriot  could  not  approach  her  moorings;  and 
although  the  tender  still  kept  her  station,  no  landing  was  made  to-day 
at  the  rock.  At  high- water  it  was  remarked  that  the  spray  rose  to  the 
height  of  about  sixty  feet  upon  the  building.  The  Smeaton  now  lay 
in  Leith  loaded,  but,  the  wind  and  weather  being  so  unfavourable  for 
her  getting  down  the  Firth,  she  did  not  sail  till  this  afternoon.  It  may 
here  be  proper  to  notice  that  the  loading  of  the  centre  of  the  light-room 
floor,  or  last  principal  stone  of  the  building,  did  not  fail,  when  put  on 
board,  to  excite  an  interest  among  those  connected  with  the  work. 
When  the  stone  was  laid  upon  the  cart  to  be  conveyed  to  Leith,  the 
seamen  fixed  an  ensign-staff  and  flag  into  the  circular  hole  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  stone,  and  decorated  their  own  hats,  and  that  of  James  Craw, 
the  Bell  Rock  carter,  with  ribbons;  even  his  faithful  and  trusty  horse 
Bassey  was  ornamented  with  bows  and  streamers  of  various  colours. 
The  masons  also  provided  themselves  with  new  aprons,  and  in  this 
manner  the  cart  was  attended  in  its  progress  to  the  ship.  When  the 
cart  came  opposite  the  Trinity  House  of  Leith,  the  officer  of  that  Cor- 
poration made  his  appearance  dressed  in  his  uniform,  with  his  staff  of 
office;  and  when  it  reached  the  harbour,  the  shipping  in  the  different 

356 


THE   BUILDING   OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

tiers  where  the  Smeaton  lay  hoisted  their  colours,  manifesting  by  these  »•«> 
trilling  ceremonies  the  interest  with  which  the  progress  of  this  work 
was  regarded  by  the  public,  as  ultimately  tending  to  afford  safety  and 
protection  to  the  mariner.  The  wind  had  fortunately  shifted  to  the  S. 
W.,  and  about  five  o'clock  this  afternoon  the  Smeaton  reached  the 
Bell  Rock. 

The  artificers  had  finished  the  laying  of  the  balcony  course,  except-  Friday, 
ing  the  centre-stone  of  the  light-room  floor,  which,  like  the  centres  of  *7'  '-  ' 
the  other  floors,  could  not  be  laid  in  its  place  till  after  the  removal  of 
the  foot  and  shaft  of  the  balance-crane.  During  the  dinner-hour,  when 
the  men  were  off  work,  the  writer  generally  took  some  exercise  by 
walking  round  the  walls  when  the  rock  was  under  water;  but  to-day 
his  boundary  was  greatly  enlarged,  for,  instead  of  the  narrow  wall  as 
a  path,  he  felt  no  small  degree  of  pleasure  in  walking  round  the  balcony 
and  passing  out  and  in  at  the  space  allotted  for  the  light-room  door. 
In  the  labours  of  this  day  both  the  artificers  and  seamen  felt  their  work  to 
be  extremely  easy  compared  with  what  it  had  been  for  some  days  past. 

Captain  Wilson  and  his  crew  had  made  preparations  for  landing  the  Sunday, 
last  stone,  and,  as  may  well  be  supposed,  this  was  a  day  of  great  in-  ^  •*  r' 
terest  at  the  Bell  Rock.  "  That  it  might  lose  none  of  its  honours,"  as 
he  expressed  himself,  the  Hedderwick  praam-boat,  with  which  the 
first  stone  of  the  building  had  been  landed,  was  appointed  also  to 
carry  the  last.  At  seven  o'clock  this  evening  the  seamen  hoisted  three 
flags  upon  the  Hedderwick,  when  the  colours  of  the  Dickie  praam- 
boat,  tender,  Smeaton,  floating  light,  beacon-house,  and  lighthouse, 
were  also  displayed;  and,  the  weather  being  remarkably  fine,  the 
whole  presented  a  very  gay  appearance,  and,  in  connection  with  the 
associations  excited,  the  effect  was  very  pleasing.  The  praam  which 
carried  the  stone  was  towed  by  the  seamen  in  gallant  style  to  the  rock, 
and,  on  its  arrival,  cheers  were  given  as  a  finale  to  the  landing  depart- 
ment. 

The  ninetieth  or  last  course  of  the  building  having  been  laid  to-day,  Monday, 
which  brought  the  masonry  to  the  height  of  one  hundred  and  two  feet  Joth  Ju'7 
six  inches,  the  lintel  of  the  light-room  door,  being  the  finishing-stone 
of  the  exterior  walls,  was  laid  with  due  formality  by  the  writer,  who, 
at  the  same  time,  pronounced  the  following  benediction:  "May  the 
Great  Architect  of  the  Universe,  under  whose  blessing  this  perilous 
work  has  prospered,  preserve  it  as  a  guide  to  the  mariner." 

357 


A   FAMILY   OF   ENGINEERS 

1810  At  three  p.m.,  the  necessary  preparations  having  been  made,  the 

ug!  artificers  commenced  the  completing  of  the  floors  of  the  several  apart- 


ments, and  at  seven  o'clock  the  centre  stone  of  the  light-room  floor 
was  laid,  which  may  be  held  as  finishing  the  masonry  of  this  important 
national  edifice.  After  going  through  the  usual  ceremonies  observed 
by  the  brotherhood  on  occasions  of  this  kind,  the  writer,  addressing 
himself  to  the  artificers  and  seamen  who  were  present,  briefly  alluded 
to  the  utility  of  the  undertaking  as  a  monument  of  the  wealth  of  Brit- 
ish commerce,  erected  through  the  spirited  measures  of  the  Commis- 
sioners of  the  Northern  Lighthouses  by  means  of  the  able  assistance  of 
those  who  now  surrounded  him.  He  then  took  an  opportunity  of  stat- 
ing that  toward  those  connected  with  this  arduous  work  he  would  ever 
retain  the  most  heartfelt  regard  in  all  their  interests. 

Saturday,  When  the  bell  was  rung  as  usual  on  the  beacon  this  morning,  every 
"8"  one  seemed  as  if  he  were  at  a  loss  what  to  make  of  himself.  At  this 
period  the  artificers  at  the  rock  consisted  of  eighteen  masons,  two 
joiners,  one  millwright,  one  smith,  and  one  mortar-maker,  besides 
Messrs.  Peter  Logan  and  Francis  Watt,  foreman,  counting  in  all  twenty- 
five  ;  and  matters  were  arranged  for  proceeding  to  Arbroath  this  after- 
noon with  all  hands.  The  Sir  Joseph  Banks  tender  had  by  this  time 
been  afloat,  with  little  intermission,  for  six  months,  during  the  greater 
part  of  which  th  •  artificers  had  been  almost  constantly  off  at  the  rock, 
and  were  now  much  in  want  of  necessaries  of  almost  every  descrip- 
tion. Not  a  few  had  lost  different  articles  of  clothing,  which  had 
dropped  into  the  sea  from  the  beacon  and  building.  Some  wanted 
jackets  ;  others,  from  want  of  hats,  wore  nightcaps  ;  each  was,  in  fact, 
more  or  less  curtailed  in  his  wardrobe,  and,  it  must  be  confessed,  that 
at  best  the  party  were  but  in  a  very  tatter-d  condition.  This  morning 
was  occupied  in  removing  the  artificers  and  their  bedding  on  board  of 
the  tender;  and,  although  their  personal  luggage  was  easily  shifted,  the 
boats  had,  nevertheless,  many  articles  to  remove  from  the  beacon- 
house,  and  were  consequently  employed  in  this  service  till  eleven  a.m. 
All  hands  being  collected  and  just  ready  to  embark,  as  the  water  had 
nearly  overflowed  the  rock,  the  writer,  in  taking  leave,  after  alluding 
to  the  harmony  which  had  ever  marked  the  conduct  of  those  employed 
on  the  Bell  Rock,  took  occasion  to  compliment  the  great  zeal,  atten- 
tion, and  abilities  of  Mr.  Peter  Logan  and  Mr.  Francis  Watt,  foremen  ; 
Captain  James  Wilson,  landing-master  ;  and  Captain  David  Taylor, 

358 


THE  BUILDING  OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

commander  of  the  tender,  who,  in  their  several  departments,  had  so  "810 
faithfully  discharged  the  duties  assigned  to  them,  often  under  circum- 
stances the  most  difficult  and  trying.  The  health  of  these  gentlemen 
was  drunk  with  much  warmth  of  feeling  by  the  artificers  and  seamen, 
who  severally  expressed  the  satisfaction  they  had  experienced  in  acting 
under  them  ;  after  which  the  whole  party  left  the  rock. 

In  sailing  past  the  floating  light  mutual  compliments  were  made  by 
a  display  of  flags  between  that  vessel  and  the  tender ;  and  at  five  p.m. 
the  latter  vessel  entered  the  harbour  of  Arbroath,  where  the  party  were 
heartily  welcomed  by  a  numerous  company  of  spectators,  who  had 
collected  to  see  the  artificers  arrive  after  so  long  an  absence  from  the 
port.  In  the  evening  the  writer  invited  the  foremen  and  captains  of  the 
service,  together  with  Mr.  David  Logan,  clerk  of  works  at  Arbroath, 
and  Mr.  Lachlan  Kennedy,  engineer's  clerk  and  book-keeper,  and  some 
of  their  friends,  to  the  principal  inn,  where  the  evening  was  spent  very 
happily ;  and  after  "  His  Majesty's  Health"  and  "  The  Commissioners 
of  the  Northern  Lighthouses"  had  been  given,  "Stability  to  the  Bell 
Rock  Lighthouse"  was  hailed  as  a  standing  toast  in  the  Lighthouse 
service. 

The  author  has  formerly  noticed  the  uniformly  decent  and  orderly  Sunday, 
deportment  of  the  artificers  who  were  employed  at  the  Bell  Rock  Light- 
house, and  to-day,  it  is  believed,  they  very  generally  attended  church, 
no  doubt  with  grateful  hearts  for  the  narrow  escapes  from  personal 
danger  which  all  of  them  had  more  or  less  experienced  during  their 
residence  at  the  rock. 

The  Smeaton  sailed  to-day  at  one  p.m.,  having  on  board  sixteeen  Tuesday, 
artificers,  w:*h  Mr.  Peter  Logan,  together  with  a  supply  of  provisions   4 
and  necessaries,  who  left  the  harbour  pleased  and  happy  to  find  them- 
selves once  more  afloat  in  the  Bell  Rock  service.     At  seven  o'clock  the 
tender  was  made  fast  to  her  moorings,  when  the  artificers  landed  on 
the  rock  and  took  possession  of  their  old  quarters  in  the  beacon-house, 
with  feelings  very  different  from  those  of  1 807,  when  the  works  com- 
menced. 

The  barometer  for  some  days  past  had  been  falling  from  20.00,  and 
to-day  it  was  29.50,  with  the  wind  at  N.E.,  which,  in  the  course  of 
this  day,  increased  to  a  strong  gale  accompanied  with  a  sea  which 
broke  with  great  violence  upon  the  rock.  At  twelve  noon  the  tender 
rode  very  heavily  at  her  moorings,  when  her  chain  broke  at  about  ten 

359 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1810  fathoms  from  the  ship's  bows.  The  kedge-anchor  was  immediately  let 
go,  to  hold  her  till  the  floating  buoy  and  broken  chain  should  be  got 
on  board.  But  while  this  was  in  operation  the  hawser  of  the  kedge 
was  chafed  through  on  the  rocky  bottom  and  parted,  when  the  vessel 
was  again  adrift.  Most  fortunately,  however,  she  cast  off  with  her 
head  from  the  rock,  and  narrowly  cleared  it,  when  she  sailed  up  the 
Firth  of  Forth  to  wait  the  return  of  better  weather.  The  artificers  were 
thus  left  upon  the  rock  with  so  heavy  a  sea  running  that  it  was  ascer- 
tained to  have  risen  to  the  height  of  eighty  feet  on  the  building.  Under 
such  perilous  circumstances  it  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  feelings 
of  those  who,  at  this  time,  were  cooped  up  in  the  beacon  in  so  forlorn 
a  situation,  with  the  sea  not  only  raging  under  them,  but  occasionally 
falling  from  a  great  height  upon  the  roof  of  their  temporary  lodging, 
without  even  the  attending  vessel  in  view  to  afford  the  least  gleam  of 
hope  in  the  event  of  any  accident.  It  is  true  that  they  had  now  the 
masonry  of  the  lighthouse  to  resort  to,  which,  no  doubt,  lessened  the 
actual  danger  of  their  situation ;  but  the  building  was  still  without  a 
roof,  and  the  dead-lights,  or  storm-shutters,  not  being  yet  fitted,  the 
windows  of  the  lower  story  were  stove  in  and  broken,  and  at  high- 
water  the  sea  ran  in  considerable  quantities  out  at  the  entrance  door. 

Thursday,  The  gale  continues  with  unabated  violence  to-day,  and  the  sprays 
°*'  rise  to  a  still  greater  height,  having  been  carried  over  the  masonry  of 
the  building,  or  about  ninety  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  At  four 
o'clock  this  morning  it  was  breaking  into  the  cook's  berth,  when  he 
rang  the  alarm-bell,  and  all  hands  turned  out  to  attend  to  their  per- 
sonal safety.  The  floor  of  the  smith's,  or  mortar-gallery,  was  now 
completely  burst  up  by  the  force  of  the  sea,  when  the  whole  of  the 
deals  and  the  remaining  articles  upon  the  floor  were  swept  away,  such 
as  the  cast-iron  mortar-tubs,  the  iron  hearth  of  the  forge,  the  smith's 
bellows,  and  even  his  anvil  were  thrown  down  upon  the  rock.  Before 
the  tide  rose  to  its  full  height  to-day  some  of  the  artificers  passed  along 
the  bridge  into  the  lighthouse,  to  observe  the  effects  of  the  sea  upon  it, 
and  they  reported  that  they  had  felt  a  slight  tremulous  motion  in  the 
building  when  great  seas  struck  it  in  a  certain  direction,  about  high- 
water  mark.  On  this  occasion  the  sprays  were  again  observed  to  wet 
the  balcony,  and  even  to  come  over  the  parapet  wall  into  the  interior 

Thur*i«y,  of  the  light-room. 

»}rd  Ang.  The  wind  being  at  W.S.W.,  and  the  weather  more  moderate,  both 

360 


THE   BUILDING  OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

the  tender  and  the  Smeaton  got  to  their  moorings  on  the  23rd,  when  l8l° 
all  hands  were  employed  in  transporting  the  sash-frames  from  on  board 
of  the  Smeaton  to  the  rock.  In  the  act  of  setting  up  one  of  these 
frames  upon  the  bridge,  it  was  unguardedly  suffered  to  lose  its  balance, 
and  in  saving  it  from  damage,  Captain  Wilson  met  with  a  severe  bruise 
in  the  groin,  on  the  seat  of  a  gun-shot  wound  received  in  the  early 
part  of  his  life.  This  accident  laid  him  aside  for  several  days. 

The  sash-frames  of  the  light-room,  eight  in  number,  and  weighing  Monday, 
each  254  pounds,  having  been  got  safely  up  to  the  top  of  the  building,  *7t   Aug 
were  ranged  on  the  balcony  in  the  order  in  which  they  were  numbered 
for  their  places  on  the  top  of  the  parapet- wall ;  and  the  balance-crane, 
that  useful  machine  having  now  lifted  all  the  heavier  articles,  was  un- 
screwed and  lowered,  to  use  the  landing-master's  phrase,  "  in  mourn- 
ful silence." 

The  steps  of  the  stair  being  landed,  and  all  the  weightier  articles  of  Sunday, 
the  light-room  got  up  to  the  balcony,  the  wooden  bridge  was  now  to 
be  removed,  as  it  had  a  very  powerful  effect  upon  the  beacon  when  a 
heavy  sea  struck  it,  and  could  not  possibly  have  withstood  the  storms 
of  a  winter.  Everything  having  been  cleared  from  the  bridge,  and 
nothing  left  but  the  two  principal  beams  with  their  horizontal  braces, 
James  Glen,  at  high-water,  proceeded  with  a  saw  to  cut  through  the 
beams  at  the  end  next  the  beacon,  which  likewise  disengaged  their  op- 
posite extremity,  inserted  a  few  inches  into  the  building.  The  frame 
was  then  gently  lowered  into  the  water,  and  floated  off  to  the  Smea- 
ton to  be  towed  to  Arbroath,  to  be  applied  as  part  of  the  materials 
in  the  erection  of  the  lightkeepers'  houses.  After  the  removal  of  the 
bridge,  the  aspect  of  things  at  the  rock  was  much  altered.  The  bea- 
con-house and  building  had  both  a  naked  look  to  those  accustomed  to 
their  former  appearance;  a  curious  optical  deception  was  also  re- 
marked, by  which  the  lighthouse  seemed  to  incline  from  the  perpendicu- 
lar towards  the  beacon.  The  horizontal  rope-ladder  before  noticed 
was  again  stretched  to  preserve  the  communication,  and  the  artificers 
were  once  more  obliged  to  practise  the  awkward  and  straddling  man- 
ner of  their  passage  between  them  during  1809. 

At  twelve  noon  the  bell  rung  for  prayers,  after  which  the  artificers 
went  to  dinner,  when  the  writer  passed  along  the  rope-ladder  to  the 
lighthouse,  and  went  through  the  several  apartments,  which  were  now 
cleared  of  lumber.  In  the  afternoon  all  hands  were  summoned  to  the 

36. 


A   FAMILY  OF   ENGINEERS 

interior  of  the  house,  when  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  laying  the  upper 
step  of  the  stair,  or  last  stone  of  the  building.  This  ceremony  con- 
cluded with  three  cheers,  the  sound  of  which  had  a  very  loud  and 
strange  effect  within  the  walls  of  the  lighthouse.  At  six  o'clock  Mr. 
Peter  Logan  and  eleven  of  the  artificers  embarked  with  the  writer  for 
Arbroath,  leaving  Mr.  James  Glen  with  the  special  charge  of  the  bea- 
con and  railways,  Mr.  Robert  Selkirk  with  the  building,  with  a  few 
artificers  to  fit  the  temporary  windows  to  render  the  house  habitable. 

On  returning  from  his  voyage  to  the  Northern  Lighthouses,  the 
writer  landed  at  the  Bell  Rock  on  Sunday,  the  14th  of  October,  and 
had  the  pleasure  to  find,  from  the  very  favourable  state  of  the  weather, 
that  the  artificers  had  been  enabled  to  make  great  progress  with  the 
fitting  up  of  the  light-room. 

F"h*o'  ^^e  ''ght-room  work  had  proceeded,  as  usual,  to-day  under  the  direc- 
tion  of  Mr.  Dove,  assisted  in  the  plumber-work  by  Mr.  John  Gibson,  and 
in  the  brazier  work  by  Mr.  Joseph  Fraser;  while  Mr.  James  Slight,  with 
the  joiners,  were  fitting  up  the  storm-shutters  of  the  windows.  In 
these  several  departments  the  artificers  were  at  work  till  seven  o'clock 
p.m.,  and  it  being  then  dark,  Mr.  Dove  gave  orders  to  drop  work  in 
the  light-room ;  and  all  hands  proceeded  from  thence  to  the  beacon- 
house,  when  Charles  Henderson,  smith,  and  Henry  Dickson,  brazier, 
left  the  work  together.  Being  both  young  men,  who  had  been  for 
several  weeks  upon  the  rock,  they  had  become  familiar,  and  even 
playful,  on  the  most  difficult  parts  about  the  beacon  and  building. 
This  evening  they  were  trying  to  outrun  each  other  in  descending  from 
the  light-room,  when  Henderson  led  the  way;  but  they  were  in  conver- 
sation with  each  other  till  they  came  to  the  rope-ladder  distended  be- 
tween the  entrance-door  of  the  lighthouse  and  the  beacon.  Dickson, 
on  reaching  the  cook-room,  was  surprised  at  not  seeing  his  companion, 
and  inquired  hastily  for  Henderson.  Upon  which  the  cook  replied, 
"Was  he  before  you  upon  the  rope-ladder?"  Dickson  answered, 
"Yes;  and  I  thought  I  heard  something  fall."  Upon  this  the  alarm 
was  given,  and  links  were  immediately  lighted,  with  which  the  arti- 
ficers descended  on  the  legs  of  the  beacon,  as  near  the  surface  of  the 
water  as  possible,  it  being  then  about  full  tide,  and  the  sea  breaking 
to  a  considerable  height  upon  the  building,  with  the  wind  at  S.S.E. 
But,  after  watching  till  low-water,  and  searching  in  every  direction 
upon  the  rock,  it  appeared  that  poor  Henderson  must  have  unfortu- 


THE  BUILDING   OF  THE   BELL  ROCK 

nately  fallen  through  the  rope-ladder,  and  been  washed  into  the  deep        "81° 
water. 

The  deceased  had  passed  along  this  rope-ladder  many  hundred 
times,  both  by  day  and  night,  and  the  operations  in  which  he  was  em- 
ployed being  nearly  finished,  he  was  about  to  leave  the  rock  when  this 
melancholy  catastrophe  took  place.  The  unfortunate  loss  of  Hender- 
son cast  a  deep  gloom  upon  the  minds  of  all  who  were  at  the  rock, 
and  it  required  some  management  on  the  part  of  those  who  had  charge 
to  induce  the  people  to  remain  patiently  at  their  work;  as  the  weather 
now  became  more  boisterous,  and  the  nights  long,  they  found  their 
habitation  extremely  cheerless,  while  the  winds  were  howling  about 
their  ears,  and  the  waves  lashing  with  fury  against  the  beams  of  their 
insulated  habitation. 

The  wind  had  shifted  in  the  night  to  N.W.,  and  blew  a  fresh  gale,  Tuesday, 
while  the  sea  broke  with  violence  upon  the  rock.  It  was  found  impos- 
sible to  land,  but  the  writer,  from  the  boat,  hailed  Mr.  Dove,  and  di- 
rected the  ball  to  be  immediately  fixed.  The  necessary  preparations  were 
accordingly  made,  while  the  vessel  made  short  tacks  on  the  southern 
side  of  the  rock,  in  comparatively  smooth  water.  At  noon  Mr.  Dove, 
assisted  by  Mr.  James  Slight,  Mr.  Robert  Selkirk,  Mr.  James  Glen,  and 
Mr.  John  Gibson,  plumber,  with  considerable  difficulty,  from  the  bois- 
terous state  of  the  weather,  got  the  gilded  ball  screwed  on,  measuring 
two  feet  in  diameter,  and  forming  the  principal  ventilator  at  the  upper 
extremity  of  the  cupola  of  the  lightroom.  At  Mr.  Hamilton's  desire,  a 
salute  of  seven  guns  was  fired  on  this  occasion,  and,  all  hands  being 
called  to  the  quarter-deck,  "  Stability  to  the  Bell  Rock  Lighthouse  " 
was  not  forgotten. 

On  reaching  the  rock  it  was  found  that  a  very  heavy  sea  still  ran  Tuesday, 
upon  it;  but  the  writer  having  been  disappointed  on  two  former  occa-  J0th  Ocl> 
sions,  and,  as  the  erection  of  the  house  might  now  be  considered  com- 
plete, there  being  nothing  wanted  externally,  excepting  some  of  the 
storm-shutters  for  the  defence  of  the  windows,  he  was  the  more  anxious 
at  this  time  to  inspect  it.  Two  well-manned  boats  were  therefore 
ordered  to  be  in  attendance;  and,  after  some  difficulty,  the  wind  being 
at  N.N.E.,  they  got  safely  into  the  western  creek,  though  not  without 
encountering  plentiful  sprays.  It  would  have  been  impossible  to  have 
attempted  a  landing  to-day,  under  any  other  circumstances  than  with 
boats  perfectly  adapted  to  the  purpose,  and  with  seamen  who  knew 

363 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

1810  every  ledge  of  the  rock,  and  even  the  length  of  the  sea-weeds  at  each 
particular  spot,  so  as  to  dip  their  oars  into  the  water  accordingly,  and 
thereby  prevent  them  from  getting  entangled.  But  what  was  of  no  less 
consequence  to  the  safety  of  the  party,  Captain  Wilson,  who  always 
steered  the  boat,  had  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  set  of  the  different 
waves,  while  the  crew  never  shifted  their  eyes  from  observing  his  mo- 
tions, and  the  strictest  silence  was  preserved  by  every  individual  except 
himself. 

On  entering  the  house,  the  writer  had  the  pleasure  to  find  it  in  a 
somewhat  habitable  condition,  the  lower  apartments  being  closed  in 
with  temporary  windows,  a,nd  fitted  with  proper  storm-shutters.  The 
lowest  apartment  at  the  head  of  the  staircase  was  occupied  with  water, 
fuel,  and  provisions,  put  up  in  a  temporary  way  until  the  house  could 
be  furnished  with  proper  utensils.  The  second,  or  light-room  store, 
was  at  present  much  encumbered  with  various  tools  and  apparatus  for 
the  use  of  the  workmen.  The  kitchen  immediately  over  this  had,  as 
yet,  been  supplied  only  with  a  common  ship's  caboose  and  plate-iron 
funnel,  while  the  necessary  cooking  utensils  had  been  taken  from  the 
beacon.  The  bedroom  was  for  the  present  used  as  the  joiners'  work- 
shop, and  the  strangers'  room,  immediately  under  the  light-room,  was 
occupied  by  the  artificers,  the  beds  being  ranged  in  tiers,  as  was  done 
in  the  barrack  of  the  beacon.  The  light-room,  though  unprovided 
with  its  machinery,  being  now  covered  over  with  the  cupola,  glazed 
and  painted,  had  a  very  complete  and  cleanly  appearance.  The  bal- 
cony was  only  as  yet  fitted  with  a  temporary  rail,  consisting  of  a  few 
iron  stanchions,  connected  with  ropes;  and  in  this  state  it  was  neces- 
sary to  leave  it  during  the  winter. 

Having  gone  over  the  whole  of  the  low-water  works  on  the  rock, 
the  beacon,  and  lighthouse,  and  being  satisfied  that  only  the  most  un- 
toward accident  in  the  landing  of  the  machinery  could  prevent  the  ex- 
hibition of  the  light  in  the  course  of  the  winter,  Mr.  John  Reid,  formerly 
of  the  floating  light,  was  now  put  in  charge  of  the  lighthouse  as  prin- 
cipal keeper;  Mr.  James  Slight  had  charge  of  the  operations  of  the  arti- 
ficers, while  Mr.  James  Dove  and  the  smiths,  having  finished  the  frame 
of  the  light-room,  left  the  rock  for  the  present.  With  these  arrange- 
ments the  writer  bade  adieu  to  the  works  for  the  season.  At  eleven 
a.m.  the  tide  was  far  advanced;  and  there  being  now  little  or  no  shel- 
ter for  the  boats  at  the  rock,  they  had  to  be  pulled  through  the  breach 

364 


THE   BUILDING   OF  THE  BELL  ROCK 

of  sea,  which  came  on  board  in  great  quantities,  and  it  was  with  ex-        1810 
treme  difficulty  that  they  could  be  kept  in  the  proper  direction  of  the 
landing-creek.     On  this  occasion  he  may  be  permitted  to  look  back 
with  gratitude  on  the  many  escapes  made  in  the  course  of  this  arduous 
undertaking,  now  brought  so  near  to  a  successful  conclusion. 

On  Monday,  the  5th,  the  yacht  again  visited  the  rock,  when  Mr.  M,°1^1^' 
Slight  and  the  artificers  returned  with  her  to  the  workyard,  where  a 
number  of  things  were  still  to  prepare  connected  with  the  temporary 
fitting  up  of  the  accommodation  for  the  light-keepers.  Mr.  John  Reid 
and  Peter  Fortune  were  now  the  only  inmates  of  the  house.  This  was 
the  smallest  number  of  persons  hitherto  left  in  the  lighthouse.  As  four 
lightkeepers  were  to  be  the  complement,  it  was  intended  that  three 
should  always  be  at  the  rock.  Its  present  inmates,  however,  could 
hardly  have  been  better  selected  for  such  a  situation ;  Mr.  Reid  being 
a  person  possessed  of  the  strictest  notions  of  duty  and  habits  of  regu- 
larity from  long  service  on  board  of  a  man-of-war,  while  Mr.  Fortune 
had  one  of  the  most  happy  and  contented  dispositions  imaginable. 

From  Saturday  the  loth  till  Tuesday  the  I3th,  the  wind  had  been  Tuesday, 
from  N.E.  blowing  a  heavy  gale;  but  to-day,  the  weather  having 
greatly  moderated,  Captain  Taylor,  who  now  commanded  the  Smeaton, 
sailed  at  two  o'clock  a.m.  for  the  Bell  Rock.  At  five  the  floating 
light  was  hailed  and  found  to  be  all  well.  Being  a  fine  moonlight 
morning,  the  seamen  were  changed  from  the  one  ship  to  the  other. 
At  eight,  the  Smeaton  being  off  the  rock,  the  boats  were  manned,  and 
taking  a  supply  of  water,  fuel,  and  other  necessaries,  landed  at  the 
western  side,  when  Mr.  Reid  and  Mr.  Fortune  were  found  in  good 
health  and  spirits. 

Mr.  Reid  stated  that  during  the  late  gales,  particularly  on  Friday,  the 
3oth,  the  wind  veering  from  S.E.  to  N.E.,  both  he  and  Mr.  Fortune 
sensibly  felt  the  house  tremble  when  particular  seas  struck,  about  the 
time  of  high-water;  the  former  observing  that  it  was  a  tremor  of  that 
sort  which  rather  tended  to  convince  him  that  everything  about  the 
building  was  sound,  and  reminded  him  of  the  effect  produced  when  a 
good  log  of  timber  is  struck  sharply  with  a  mallet;  but,  with  every 
confidence  in  the  stability  of  the  building,  he  nevertheless  confessed 
that,  in  so  forlorn  a  situation,  they  were  not  insensible  to  those  emo- 
tions which,  he  emphatically  observed,  "  made  a  man  look  back  upon 
his  former  life." 


A   FAMILY  OF  ENGINEERS 

»8»  The  day,  long  wished  for,  on  which  the  mariner  was  to  see  a  light 

ist  Feb.  exhibited  on  the  Bell  Rock  at  length  arrived.  Captain  Wilson,  as 
usual,  hoisted  the  float's  lanterns  to  the  topmast  on  the  evening  of  the 
ist  of  February;  but  the  moment  that  the  light  appeared  on  the  rock, 
the  crew,  giving  three  cheers,  lowered  them,  and  finally  extinguished 
the  lights. 


A     000  072  231     4 


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